Through the Compact Disc
by BLFBH
Summary: A Christmas present. Just a little CD case. What harm would something like that bring? Apparently, quite a lot. Cptr 11: The Music Plays (THE FINAL CHAPTER HOORAY)
1. Christmas Present

Through the Compact Disc

Lotta songs that remind me of Helga out there these days. Don't own any of them (except one), or characters (Except Franchesca {Doesn't that fit just right?} and Deana who I made up, just not the name). This just came to me. Don't know why. Set at Christmas, just not the point.

"Wow, Arnold!" cried Franchesca, holding up an open black box. "It's beautiful! Where'd you find the mon--"

"Think nothing of it, Franny," answered Arnold. "It fits my wife just perfectly." He crawled on his knees around her and clasped the diamond and pearl necklace on her neck. 

She turned her face to kiss him. "All I got you was Statson cologne and a package of Hanes," she said guiltily.

"Hey, I'm a man; you're a woman. Some things just fit." He turned to look at a ten-year-old girl sitting by the tree and holding up a square CD case up. "Oh, wow, Daddy!" cried their daughter, Deana. "I've always wanted this CD! Everyone's talking about her!"

Arnold bent over to look at the pink and black covered CD case. "Sorry, Dee, but I think Mom got that for you." They both turned around to look at Franchesca. She shrugged.

"Thank you Mom!" exclaimed Deana. "The top of my list was a Helga Pataki disc!"

Arnold's head cocked up at the sound of the familiar name. He looked at the CD again and took it from her. He looked at it carefully. "Who did you say this was?" he asked his daughter.

"Helga Pataki, Dad, don't you ever listen to the radio or watch MTV2?"

Arnold looked at the CD again, trying to figure out how he knew this woman. She was blonde, blue-eyed, and had a lot of small pink ribbons in her hair. She had a sort of desperate look on her face, but the first thing her noticed was the bows. Where have I seen those before? he thought curiously. Then it came to him.

"Helga?" Arnold said in disbelief.

"Who's Helga, dear?" asked Franny. 

"This girl was in school with me until the sixth grade! She was my class bully, but somewhere around there she claimed she loved me! I didn't believe her, but--"

Suddenly, Deana jumped up and crushed an empty box walking to Arnold. "No way," she said, staring at her father.

"What?"

"YOU were the childhood love that Helga based her first hit single on? The one that was mentioned in three chapters of her new biography, while was still named Anonymous?" She sat down very quickly in awe. "My dad is the most famous man in the school. I can not believe it."

There was a small silence from the shock of this news. Finally, Franny said, "Why don't we, um, listen to the CD. Shall we?"

"Oh," said Arnold, snapping back to reality. "Yeah, of course, Fran. Wow, uh, um, wow." 

Franny stood up, opened the CD player, placed it inside, and pressed Play.

How mean of me, huh? Anyway, I think this is going to be really good, so I hope you guys like it! Next chapter in a week. Merry Xmas, Hannukah, Kwanza, New Year, whatever!


	2. Looking In

Through the Compact Disc

Don't own any but two of these songs and any changes I made. Big song chapter.

Track one on the Helga Pataki CD came on in the Smudge living room. (I made that his name. :D) 

"He was a punk, she did ballet, what more can I say? He wanted her, she'd never tell, secretly she wanted him as well. But all of her friends stuck up there nose, they had a problem with his baggy clothes. He was a skater boy....Sorry girl but you missed out. Well tough luck that boy's gone now...."

Arnold cocked an eyebrow. "Hhmn," he thought out loud. "I did go into some kind of punk image when I was fourteen. The girl must be Lila."

After that song was over, the next one was:

"If I could say what I wanted to say, I'd say I wanna blow you...away. Be with you every night. Am I squeezing you too tight? If I could say what I wanted to see, I wanna see you go down...on one knee. Marry me today. Guess I'm wishing my life away....with these things I'll never say."

"That's the one!" interrupted Deana. "That's the one based on you, Dad!"

Next came a more dramatic and sad song:

" Momma, please stop crying, I can't stand the sound....It ain't easy growing up in World War 3, barely knowing what love could be, you'll see. I don't want love to destroy me like it's done my family!..."

"Her family was always difficult, but I didn't know it was this hard on her.

Track 4 was a tougher one. There was a sense of emotion in it you couldn't really recognize.

"Grew up in a big town, it was filled with rats, dangerous alleys, stray black cats, but I pulled threw. We all did. Could give every boy in school a black eye, gave half of the girls a reason to cry, but if anyone had to know me, no one would bid. 'Cause it's always hard to deal with to much, but I turned out harder. My pain, my joy, my reality, mind toys, and another helped me hold on."

That left Arnold and Franny in awe. Arnold mostly. He never knew Helga was like that. He never thought she could feel that way. "Man, we were all so wrong."

Franny looked at the back of the CD. "Lets listen to this one." She put it on track nine.

"I wear a disguise, I'm just your average Jane. Super doesn't stand for model, but it doesn't mean I'm plain. If all you see is how I look, you miss the super-girl within...I am confidence in insecurity, I am a voice yet waiting to be heard, I'll shoot the shot, BANG! heard around the world... I'm a one girl revolution...."

Arnold stood up. "Dang, I can't believe I missed that in her! I mean, nobody saw that. Not even her parents!"

Franny stood up behind her husband and held his shoulders. "Yeah, well," she said, "this was a long time ago. I just realized too that I have a poetry book written by the woman on that CD."

Arnold turned around. "Really?" he asked. "Well, I think I know who wrote all those poems in class, then."

"She's a genius," said Franny.

"She rocks!" Deana said.

Arnold didn't say anything. This is a weird Christmas surprise, he thought, but a good one. I guess now I'll never know.

"Hey, look!" chimed Deana from the floor. "They have HP's email address in the little booklet that comes in CDs!"

Arnold's head jerked around. "Deana, can I see that?"

She looked up and smiled. "Sure Dad. I still can't believe Helga actually knew and loved you!" Deana handed the booklet to him.

"I've got it!" he exclaimed, and dove to the computer. Franchesca knelt behind the chair.

"Honey," she said quietly. "It's Christmas. Can't you do this tomorrow?"

He pulled his fingers off the keyboard and sighed. "Sorry, Fran," he said guiltily. "It's just...I had known this girl since I was three, went to school with her until we were twelve, played baseball with her, had countless projects with her, and yet, all I knew really was her name. I just, just, have to find out."

"I still think it's cool," a voice said from behind. Deana shrugged.

See ya, people. I updated in 5 hours, which for me is a record. Anyway, stay loyal! Like my doggie! Ha, well, till next time...

~~Briana~~


	3. Guess Work

Trough the Compact Disc

Hey, those who have trouble with patience, sorri. Been kept up with other things like blasted evil homework and Explanations. I wrote like a ton of new songs for Helga that are all mine! No disclaimer there, lawyers! Also, this is not a short one! Hooray! I tried typing this three times but it froze before I could save it. VIRUS, I swear. Plus, POV! So, here we go! Phebga?

*Tossing, turning, sighs, arguing, electronics, radio, phones, trivia, tickets! Lotsa stuff, huh? That is all. Over. Click. *

Yeah, and guess what? I only own 3 of Helga's songs, Guess What, Waiting, and The Key, also that smidge of something w/ 'full of rats'. Frannie and Deana are mine, too. Even those radio broadcasters aren't mine, they work for my fav radio station. Everythang else don't belong to me! 

Quote of the Chappie: "Oh, go on!" "Okay, I'll stop." "No, really, go on. Go on!" Arnold and Helga Married-HA!

POV-Author

Arnold looked at the clock on his nightstand. He sighed. It was a little after two o' clock in the morning, and he was still wide-awake. His thoughts were like caffeine, wrapping him around in a new state of hyper awareness; he couldn't think of anything else but that girl who ended up as a part of his background. From Urban Tots to the fruits play, to the bio-square, to the tree/Lila dump, to the vacation at the beach, to the egg project, to the day when she disappeared to nowhere, there were memories that Arnold had once shunned from his mind. Even if sometimes he brought them back.

Even though he had taken the covers of long ago, Frannie was awoken from the constant pushes made accidentally by Arnold. She had kept quiet for a while, but when it wouldn't stop, she tapped him on the shoulder. "Honey, what are you doing?"

Arnold jumped from the surprise, but calmed when he heard his wife's voice. "I'm sorry I woke you up, Frannie."

She pushed herself up so she could sit on her elbows. "I've been up for a while." There was a small pause as Arnold sat up, too. "Arnold, you didn't answer my question."

Arnold laid his head in his hands. He was so tired, but then the caffeine got him. "Thinking."

Frannie rolled her eyes. She knew what he was thinking about, even if she hoped he wasn't. "Is it about that girl on the CD I bought for Deana? That Helen girl?"

"Helga is, not Helen."

"I knew it." She sat up all the way this time. "Dear, why are you obsessed with that girl? Its not like you were dating or anything." Wait. "Were you?"

Arnold chuckled. If only she knew what Helga had said that one time. "Halfway point, I guess. I'm sure Deana would want that to be true." His smile faded. "I just can't get over the fact that I had missed my chance. My chance to get to know her slightly better. Eleven years and I only knew her name, that she picked on me, she must have a nice side, and that she- never mind. I just wish...I was always supposed to be the one who could help out someone. Anyone. Except for Helga. She's obviously strong, but still weak. Man, I'm confused." He smiled, a sad but still happy one.

A small heat rushed through Francesca's blood veins. Why should she be jealous? There wasn't anyway that he could like her; he hadn't even known her from what she learned. Still, she knew she had an amazing mind, too. "Look, punt-head," she said. Arnold gave her a quizzical look. "Joking. Look, now you know some things about her. There's no more you can do. 'What's done is done, what's passed is past. Not everything is meant to last.' She wrote that, you know."

Arnold accusingly pointed his finger at her. She was proving his point in this weird kind of argument. "See? Even you like her! I just want to get to know her, and you're quoting her trying to tell me that it's not worth it."

"At least I'm not trying to get to her because I used to know her, which I didn't! You barely ever talk to Gerald anymore, and he's a talk show host. Phoebe is a scientist at Duke, Stinky owns a pie company, and my best friend, Clarice, is Secretary to the President! You are a psychologist and a father. I'm a mother and a kindergarten teacher! Helga is a pop/rock star/poet/author. She's gone, and you don't have to see her."

Arnold's head went down in sorrow. "She's an old friend. If you had a chance I'd bet you'd talk forever with Clarice. I just want to see her. My mind is full of questions." 

Francesca sucked on her teeth. She could not win this battle. "Fine, fine. You win, fanatic. You can e-mail her, or something. I guess its no problem."

Okay, now Arnold was curious. If it was no problem, why was she trying to stop him? Ah, that good old density. "Thanks." He lied back down on his pillow sleepily. Not even his thoughts could keep him up at two-thirty in the morning. "Good night, dear."

Frannie put her head down and sighed. It was slight jealousy. "Good night, Arnold." Her thoughts kept her awake like caffeine until four in the morning.

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

POV-Deana

"Mom! Dad! Wake up, you guys!" I was sitting in between my dead-cold parents. Oh, I'm still excited about the fact that _Helga Pataki _had written songs about my _dad_. 

My father snorted, and rather loudly, signaling that it would take something drastic to wake them up. I rolled her eyes. I'd get in trouble, but since I'm only 11, I "MOM! DAD! IT'S SATURDAY, AND I HAVE A MEETING WITH MY HISTORY FAIR GROUP IN, LIKE TWO HOURS!"

Dad and Mom jerked up, their hearts beating a mile per quarter second. "Deana!" voiced my mom, both angry and tired. "Where's the fire?"

I smirked, that smirk that my best friend says looks like Helga's. Which I didn't believe. Anyway... "There is none, Mom. I have that Histaory project meeting with Annie and Ricky in a little while. You guys must have been up late. Its way after nine. You slept through your alarm clock."

They both looked over to the clock and saw the time. Dad's eyes jumped open. "Dee, where's that little booklet thingy?"

I cocked my head, then got excited. I knew what he was about to do. I raced out to get it. Oh, this was so cool. When I came back in the room, Mom was looking at Dad weird. Um, question mark. Well, I gave it to Dad, and as I expected, he went straight for the computer.

I looked back at my mom, who was about to fall back on her pillow. "Mom? Clothes, shoes, hair, then the car. I'll be waiting in there."

Mom nodded, getting up. "I need a glass of water."

I laughed inside, then ran to the car and turned up the radio.

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

POV-Arnold *Ya've been waiting for this part, haven't ya?*

I took the booklet from Deana and raced to the computer. The stupid machine was to slow. I needed on the Internet now! What am I thinking? I'm going crazy over this, aren't I? I guess that's what Francesca meant.

While I waited, I looked at the address Deana gave me. Question mark. It was notolgafutbal@aol.com. (AN: No, Its not real, and if someone has this address, SORRY!). 

When AOL finally loaded up, Deana and Fran were gone. I went to the Mail Center. So what if I had 20 emails from patients. I'd get to them later. I went to Write Mail, typed in the address, and wrote:

__

Subject: Long Time, No See

From: smudgesgalore@aol.com

Dear Helga Pataki,

This isn't really a fan letter(Even if my wife thinks it is.) Yes, I'm a man. You know me, but you don't know who I am right now. Anyway, here's a clue: Your email address. I'd appreciate it if you told who I was. My daughter is crazy about this. she really loves you. i'm sorry I never got to talk to you sooner. Will you forgive me? This is my name:

Signed,

Arnold Tiller. AKA: Football Head

PS_: I like your songs. I'm sorry, again, for not trying to talk to you._

I clicked the send button and laughed. I'd like to see her face when she reads this.

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

POV-Helga

I was checking my fan mail. A lot was about 'Family Portrait'. My idea, agent wanted to tweak it. Some were just those pathetic 'I love you sooooo much. Your so famous is why' mail. Then I saw one from smudgesgalore@aol.com. The subject was 'Long time, no see'. I clicked on it.

After reading the mysterious letter, my mouth dropped. "Oh, God! Not possible!" Next came blackness.

When I woke up, I was on my bed surronded by my 'bodyguard' and my 'agent'. When they saw I was awake, they sighed. I scowled.

I remembered what the letter said. "Give me the phone."

"But, Helga, baby, we have to talk about the-"

Agents are so self-absorbed. "NOW!"

When I was handed my cell phone, I called the radio station in Hillwood. How I remembered it is a mystery. "Time to let Anonymous out." The phone rang, and I shooed them away. "Hello? This is Helga Pataki. I have something to-yeah, it's Helga Pataki. Listen..."

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

POV-Francesca

Deana ran into the car, carrying five books on pioneer trails between 1830-1850. She threw them in, climbed in, and yelled, "Put on the radio, Mom!"

I did so. She loves music. It's her life. When I put it on, there was a song that was obviously HP's work. 

__

"Well guess what? Like you, I'm human.

And I'm gonna live my life just like you, man.

La, la, la, la, la, la, la...

I have a life!

I have a voice!"

"Oh, man! That one was new! I missed it!" Deana was really obsessed with her. almost as much as Arnold.

So, I'm a little jealous. Can you blame me? That's all he's thought about in the last 24 hours!

"And that was Helga Pataki's latest hit, Guess What. Speaking of HP, you'll never guess what happened during the playing of that song! Helga herself called here, her old, favorite radio station! And now she's let out once top secret information!"

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

PO

POV-Arnold

"And she's let out once top secret information!"

I smiled. I never would have guessed she'd listen to me for a change. Ha. Deana's in for a surprise.

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

POV-Helga

I listened on my satellite radio (there's something good about being famous) to what Ned Jr. was announcing. Like I didn't know anyway.

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

POV-Deana

Top secret information. Only one thing.

"She's letting everyone know about Dad!"

"And we've turned it into a trivia question. No one's gonna guess this. Who is the anonymous man Helga based 'Things I'll Never Say' on? First caller who gets it right wins 4 tickets to her Hometown concert!"

Mom was staring at the radio player.

I smiled. "Give me your cell. I'm glad I didn't tell Annie." When she handed it to me, I punched in the memorized number and put the phone to my ear. No busy signal.

"Hello, you're on the air! Ya got a name? More importantly, do you know the answer?"

"Deana, and yeah I do. His name is-"

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

POV-Arnold

"His name is Arnold Tiller."

How did I know Deana would be the one?

"Wow. That's, that's correct! How did you know that?"

Arnold could hear Deana's laugh. "Well, I am his kid!"

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

POV-Helga

"Well, I am his kid!"

Kid? Arnold had a kid? That meant he was married. Oh, yeah. He mentioned 'wife' and 'daughter' in the e-mail.

Well, at least I can see him at my Hometown Concert.

Sigh, oh, poor me. Whatever. I had some songs that were never before realesed for the concert. I hope Deana likes them. I hope Arnold likes them.

I grabbed my phone.

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

POV-Deana

"His kid? Well, that explains it! Wait, can you hold on a second? I think we have a response. Hello, this is NJ. What's your name?"

"You and Deana know my name."

I gasped, then covered my mouth. There was no, possible, at least in this dimension, way.

"HELGA PATAKI!"

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

POV-Author

Helga smiled. It was rare that she smiled. "Hey, Deana, what's up?"

Deana's mouth dropped open. "Are you really...?"

"Deana? Yes, I am. Can you tell your dad that it's okay. He'll figure out why at the concert. you guys have back stage passes, remember?"

Deana's voice was taking a short holiday, so the boss had to work it. "Yes. I-I-I really like your songs. I'm not ju-ju-just saying that cuz you're famous. I really do. My mom loves your poems. And I will tell him."

Helga wanted to reach through the phone and hug Arnold's child, the one that could be hers. "Yeah, I know. You're Arnold's kid, remember? And, Mrs. Tiller? Thanks, and you're lucky."

Francesca was listening the whole time. She had long pulled into a gas station so she didn't have to drive. Arnold was getting what he wanted. So was Deana. And a little part of herself wanted to see her, too. She was her favorite author.

"Well, I guess I'll you see you at the concert. Bye Deana."

"Bye, HP. I'll see you, too."

"Bye, Hillwood."

They both hung up.

"Well," said NJ, flabbergasted, "I think that everyone listening is really excited. Deana, we'll have the tickets delivered to you in time for the concert, which is in three days. Now, let's play 'Stole', by Kelly Rowland.

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

"Dad, dad, dad, guess what?" Deana ran into the house, totally out of breath, screaming. "Helga, Helga Pataki said, she said..."

Arnold got up from his seat by the radio and smiled at his daughter. "I know. And I know what she wanted you to tell me." He knelt down and hugged her daughter.

"Dad, this is so cool! Who would think that this all would come from a compact disc!" Deana was so excited. Not only was her Dad famous, but she actually talked to HP and got back stage passes to her concert to talk with her! "I've gotta call Annie, and Heather, and Leslie, and Luz, and..." She ran up the stairs to her room, naming every single one of her friends.

Frannie walked in the door, half smiling, half frowning. She was very confused. she walked up to Arnold and held her necklace tight in her hand. "Arnold?" she asked.

Arnold turned to her wife and kissed her on the cheeck. "What is it?"

Frannie smiled. "What do you think I should wear to the concert?"

Aye, Caramba! This is like, four times as long as the first three! Is this a good enough chapter for the wait? *Ah, can't feel fingers. The chapter + beginning credits were 2,500 words!* I didn't know where to cut it! Anyway, here's to my loyal reviews who will review me for my struggle. I'm sorry for the delay! Here's a clue about the next chappie: Helga has to be in town for the concert, so between rehearsals, she... *Was that good? I hope so. My idea.* Flames are welcome, or critisim, or just encouraging reviews. Now, click that little button. Go on, go on, you can do it!

~~Briana LFBH ^^+Phebga^^ 


	4. Visiting

Through the Compact Disc

Well, I had a really sad thing for this chappie, but re-read my last one and saw the end credits, so made it that. I can be forgetful at moments...*Moments? Don't you mean all-* Whatever! Anyway, sorry for delays, but no one reviewed my last chapter. Reviews, hello? Plus, I'm using a sequence, so since the story started on Christmas, it is two days after, the 27th. Really long reading ahead, people. I try to make the summaries interesting, but I suck. That's why you always listen to Phebga...

*Helga has to be in town for the concert, so between rehearsals, she...Oh, so NOW you want to know? But it may not lead to very good things, will it? *

How many times must I say this? I own zippyity-doo-dah squatish in this story. Wait, Deana and Francesca aren't nothing! Also I don't own the poem And She was Gone, cuz that's from As Told By Ginger, and I just loved it, and I had to put it in! The songs that she sings from now on are mine, though; unless I say that they don't...I'm really confused.

POV-Francesca~~~

Sitting in a very big, very comfortable red recliner was I, Francesca Tiller, reading a small book called Behind the Closet. Of course, it was by Helga Pataki, the word that was now used in the household twenty-four seven. My daughter thought it was so cool, my husband was amazed and wondered by her, also still ashamed of himself. It is only natural for me to be jealous. Sure, I admire Helga for her work in poetry, but I'm not obsessed with her. Sure, I wanted to go to the concert, but everything would be focused around one person: three guesses who it would be. I know, I didn't normally act like this, but this wasn't a normal situation; shouldn't it rather be called a big problem with my family and myself? Ugh, I feel like I have two people standing next to me, playing Tug-O-War with my arms.

I turned back to the book and read the next poem, entitled "And Then She was Gone".

She chose to walk alone, though others wondered why

Refused to look before her, kept eyes cast upwards towards the sky

She didn't have companions; no need for earthly things

Only wanted freedom from what she felt were puppet strings

She longed to be a bird, that she might fly away

She pitied every blade of grass, for planted they would stay

She longed to be a flame that brightly danced alone

Felt jealous of the steam that made the air its only home

Some say she wished too hard; some say she wished too long

But we awoke one autumn day to find that she was gone

The trees, they say, stood witness; the sky refused to tell

But someone who had seen it said the story played out well

She spread her arms out wide, breathed in the break of dawn

She just let go of all she held...and then she was gone

The poems in the book weren't all like that; there were a few varieties in it, and the serious style of this one wasn't as common through most of it.

My thinking was, at long last, almost at an end. So far, I thought, Arnold had only wanted to get to know as a friend. As long as the last three words stay as they are, I'm just fine with it. I made up her mind: there was no reason to be jealous of anything. Deana just thought that a celebrity was cool, like most girls her age. Arnold knew her from a long time ago and was just overwhelmed. 

I closed the book and went to bed.

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

POV-Helga~~~

Every single radio station, entertainment channel, cartoon channel, and news channel wanted to have an interview on me, and probably Arnold, too, but since I didn't give an address...wait, people have computers and junk...well, pretty much every stinking channel in existence wanted to do a report on me. I think that my stupid Mr. Disturb Helga with Way to Much Stuff, and Try to Get Her in a Skimpy Outfit for a Video, Which I punched Him For agent had gone a little too far with my announcement. I had a date with a Ukrainian reporter in two weeks. As if anyone who has a TV didn't know, it was all about Arnold Tiller and info on him, ex cetera. 

Actually, it was hard for me to believe, too. Arnold, the long called Anonymous, had contacted me and, at least, I think, (I accidentally hit the delete button when I fainted...I haven't done much of that since sixth grade) actually apologized to me! For what? For not trying to befriend me sooner, that's what! Oh, just thinking about it made me flutter up to and past the bearings of the ceiling, past the barrier of plaster and into the crisp night air, where I'd float until dawn. Hey, that's good! I reached for a piece of paper and wrote that down, for later reference. As I was saying, before I rudely interrupted myself, the fact that Arnold wanted me to forgive him was over-whelming. He should be the one doing that, since I had always treated him like crud. Well, whom was I supposed to blame for making him think that? Just look at my songs, like Guess What?

He wanted me to forgive him? Fine, I would. Actually, I already had, long ago. A lot of the stuff in those songs I wrote wasn't true...I pushed people away, not the other way around. 

I looked up, suddenly filled with creativity, as I had been in the past twelve hours. I looked at my digital clock. It was almost three in the morning. Well, I had to do this. At the Hometown concert, the one I would be having in Hillwood (one good idea came out of Mr. Disturb ext. for once) I would have a few brand new songs, including Guess What, I guess. I didn't care what Mr. Disturb etc. had to say; it was my career, my songs, and my choice. My message.

I wrote at the top of the paper The Cage. Soon, tomorrow, actually, I'd have a 5-hour break between rehearsals. I knew what I would be doing.

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

POV-Deana~~~

I had called Annie, Heather, Leslie, Luz, Alex, Tessa, and Ashley, telling them the entire story that had started on Christmas up to the really early morning of December 27, 2002. 

My father, Arnold Miles Tiller, would be talking to an old school friend. At a concert in the Woodrow Wilson stage in the city park. Backstage. With Helga Geraldine Pataki. 

My father was famous all because of a birthday present to me. I was listening to her CD through my headset at that very moment. It should have been perfect; I would be so popular, I'd meet Helga, and my father was famous. Only something didn't feel right.

My mother hadn't responded as well as my father and I to the news. She had seemed upset about it, almost jealous. But she seemed excited about the concert, so I no longer, no long, no...

Burp, burp, burp. Burp, burp, burp.

I sat up immediately in my bed. Why on earth did I set my alarm clock at seven thirty on winter vacation? The CD thankfully stopped at the end, so I didn't waste my batteries. Oh, well. I was awake, and once I am it'll take me forever to go back into slumber. So I just got up and dressed into my jeans and a blue shirt with the logo Abercrombie on it. No need for shoes yet, so I walked downstairs tiredly. 

Apparently, Dad had actually heard the alarm clock today and was sitting at the table, in a blue windbreaker and a red plaid shirt. His old school pictures showed almost the exact same outfit. He looked up when he heard my footsteps and smiled. "Good morning, Deana."

I smiled sleepily at him in return. "Yo, Pops." He laughed out loud. I sat down and pulled the Apple Jacks toward my bowl. I realized that the answering machine's light was blinking. "Dad, did you know that we have messages?"

He looked up from his cup of hot tea, first seeming interested, and then a totally different look overcame his face. "How many?"

I checked the little digital number. Omigod! "I, um, there are forty-two." Why was that? Oh, yeah. Big celebrity says that she's in love with someone, it covers everything. All, or at least most, of the messages were the media.

After a really long silence, my father sighed. "I have to get to work. I'll be home at two thirty, alright?"

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

Spending your day listening to the phone ring and different radio and television personalities all day wasn't exactly my idea of a good day. Unfortunately, it was way to cold outside for anything but drinking hot cocoa or a cheap trip to an Antarctica imitation. Well, while I was listening to people from MTV2, like Spencer Klein from New Music News, and ABC (I think someone from Ukraine called), I doodled, like I usually do when I'm bored beyond imagination.

I heard the phone ring. Twenty seconds later, it rang again. Wait, that was the doorbell, not the phone. Since Dad was at Hillwood Medical Clinic and Mom was going over lesson plans, I had to get it. I told them to wait a moment.

When I opened the door, I screamed. Very loudly.

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

POV-Arnold~~~(*We really should stop here to leave you hanging, but we don't want to be cruel. At least, not now, anyway...mwa ha ha ha ha!)

I was about two blocks away from my house when I saw a hot pink Convertible with red stripes at the bottom in my driveway. I was curious about who it was, but I was about to find out.

I turned off the ignition when I reached the driveway and walked inside. That's when I noticed a black hat, a trench coat, and a pair of fake glasses in the car. Now I was really curious.

When I opened the door to my house, I saw my wife and daughter sitting on the couch across from Helga Pataki.

My eyes grew so big, my eyelids wouldn't reach the other. I stopped breathing and muttered odd noises. My knees just about buckled. What was she doing here?

"He...Hel...He...wha...Helga?"

Helga smirked that old, cynical smile. "Hey, Football Head, how's it going?" 

All I could possibly do was fall down to the floor in Indian Style. Yes, this was definitely Helga. All I could do was stare at the seemingly lain, mean, tough Helga, and wonder why. Why was she here? Why?

"Why?"

She sighed, Deana giggled, and Frannie kept quiet, clutching her poetry book and sneaking looks at her pen.

"Okay," said Helga, grasping all of her courage. "We need to get some things straight Arnold, apparently, you wanted me to forgive you, but you should be the one forgiving me. Second of all, I'm sorry that I was so mean to you back up until sixth grade, third, don't believe some parts of those songs, because my agent thinks I'm to plain, but apparently all the ones that he didn't tweak are on the air. Last, you said in your e-mail that you wanted to talk to me, at least, um, I think it did." She sighed again and took a big breath. "So, um, can you talk, Arnoldo?"

I slowly nodded. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Francesca stare at me like I was some exhibit in the Ripley's Believe It or Not Museum. 

"I...um, well, I..." Why was I so clamed up? "I, uh, when did you leave PS 118?"

Helga gave me a look. "Arnold, I left the same year you did. I graduated high school the same year you did."

My eyes widened and my cheeks grew hot. I thought she had moved in the sixth grade? How stupid of me! I grabbed the back of my neck. Okay, Deana can stop staring at her father like that now.

"Uh, sorry." Man, I'm dense! "Uh, so, um, I...I know this will sound weird, but..." Francesca looked at me in surprise with a look that said, "Honey, I love you very much, but don't ask her if..." Why am I always to late to notice stuff?

"Do you, um, still have a crush on me?"

Deana smiled, Frannie scowled, and Helga sat back in her seat and rubbed her temples. "Ye...Yes...uh, yeah."

There was a small silence in the room. Frannie was trying to look into my eyes for some reason. I don't know. But, I let her see and then she stood up. She went upstairs.

Deana looked up, and then back down at Helga and me. "This is way too cool, do you guys realize that?"

I had been home for about three minutes, and I was feeling queasy. I just couldn't stop staring at her. The girl who was the most hated and the most hateful was really so emotional. I'm a psychiatrist, so I could tell people's feelings, most of the time. Others, I'd sink to the bottom of the ocean.

HP started up the conversation again, barely. "I'm sorry for coming, Arnold," she said, standing up. "I should go..."

"No," I said firmly, surprised at my tone. Helga was, too, and so was Deana. They both stared at me. There was too much staring going on lately. 

I could tell Helga was trying not to blow her ribbons off. Yes, she still wore those relatively cute pink bows in her hair. Anyway, she clenched her teeth, blushed slightly, and said as calm as possible, "Why?"

I blinked, finally. "No," I stuttered. "Not until you tell me why you acted the way you did when we were kids."

Apparently, Deana noticed that this wasn't just a Celebrity Show-Up episode on VH1. She showed her teeth in a way that looked like an upside down grin, pointed to the kitchen and said, "Um, do you want me to go away now, dad."

I nodded, still staring at Helga. Why had she come? I forced my gaze to my daughter. "Yes, Deana. Come back in about ten minutes."

Helga took one of her big braids and twirled it around her hand. She was stalling; I could tell. Finally she grabbed the back of her neck and scowled, and I think it was to herself. She collapsed on the chair and sighed. "First, can you get off of the floor?" she asked. "It's getting a little bit annoying."

Arnold looked at the floor, blushed, and stood up. "Sorry," he apologized. He stood and sat in the chair across from her. "Um, are you going to answer my question?"

Helga looked down, keeping away from my eyes. She was trying to move toward the door, but she couldn't. Not yet, at least.

Finally, she took a deep breath, slowly let it out, and lifted her head slightly so that she could see me, but just barely. "Because of you, Arnold."

I jumped back slightly. Did she say, "Me?"

Helga lifted her head completely. "Yes, you, Football-Head! It's always been you!" She stood up and walked over to my chair and pointed at me. "Because I loved you when I was so young, people would have made _fun of me! _So that people wouldn't, I had to cover it up! Not only that, but I had to act like I hated everyone so nobody would get any ideas! But I didn't want to, that's why in the sixth grade I slipped from view, so that I wouldn't have to handle anyone at all! But I was there up until I was seventeen, when my poetry started getting published under the name 'Pink n' Sight'. I could live off of that money until I started singing, and then it comes to this." She sat back down on the floor. "I'm sorry, but I can get a little bit hysterical sometimes." She stood up and grabbed her small purse. "I should go."

I lifted my hand. "No, wait…"

"Arnold, there isn't anything else I can say but see you at the concert." She shook her head. "I have to go now, anyway. Rehearsals call. I'll see you there."

She walked over to the door and put her hand on the doorknob. She looked back at me. "I'm not angry at you, Arnold. I just thought I could bare it, but I can't. Wait until the concert, okay?" She opened the door. "Oh, and you'll see Gerald and everyone there, too. I talked my agent into it." I could have sworn I heard her say Mr. Disturb Helga under her breath, but pushed it aside. "Bye, Arnoldo."

I looked up. "Bye, Helga."

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

POV-Francesca~~~

I knew it. I had seen it in his eyes. He was attracted to her. I had hoped it wouldn't come to this, but I had no choice. I couldn't live with him until he got over it.

But what if he wouldn't? What if he was truly feeling something for her, and it wasn't just a little celebrity crush? I won't be able to live with him period.

I do love him, but now I'm wondering whom he wants. Helga, or me?

I had a feeling I knew what the answer would be.

I walked into the bedroom and pulled out my smaller suitcase. I packed just a little bit, in case it would blow over. Until then, I'd be in Seattle, with my grandmother. I didn't want to do it, but it had to be done.

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

POV-Helga~~~

I walked out of Arnold's house reluctantly. It was too much to bear. Seeing Arnold's family was nerve-racking, because I knew it wasn't mine. I had been known as the tough kid throughout my life, even now. But I still felt terrible about causing his family and him this trouble. I knew when Francesca had tried to see into Arnold's eyes what he was looking for. Actually, I'm not one hundred percent sure, but I think that she thought that he was…attracted to me? No, he couldn't be. Not after all this time, when he had a kid and a wife and…a life. 

I bit my lip as a walked into my car, put on my trench coat (why did I take it off? It was freaking cold!) and hat on. I drove back to the Woodrow Wilson stage, ready to present my newest song to the band. Or should I say songs?

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

POV-Deana~~~

In the kitchen I saw Helga get into my father's face and almost yell at him. I heard every word. I didn't know it had been like _that _when they were in school together!

I could also see Mom eavesdropping from the staircase. Of course, look at me! I could see a look in my mother's eyes that meant something was wrong. When Helga left, she turned and went into her bedroom, while Dad still sat on the chair.

I had thought it would be amazing, since Helga was a big star, but I didn't know how it would affect Mom and Dad. I had no idea how either of them was feeling, though, so how should I know?

This is a really long chappie, isn't it? Well, I hope ya'll enjoy it! Next chappie may come in a long time, so try and wait patiently, folks! Nobody reviewed my last chapter, so I'm going to say this: five reviews, or I'm not updating any more. * But I really like this, so people, review, for your sake and ours! *

~~Briana LFBH~~ * = ^^Phebga^^*


	5. Chain Recation

 Through the Compact Disc 

Okay, so I'm a sucker for this story. I like it, the people who've read it like it, and so I want three for each chapter. That means at least three for this one, or I'm just going to cut it. Now, don't make me do it! Oh, um, don't worry I like this piece of work! By the way, I HAVE uploaded the 16th chappie of Explanations, okay? Well, anyway…

Remember that thing I said in the last chappie about something sad…well, I put it in here. Tell me if you absolutely hate it, okay? 

I don't own Hey Arnold, even though I do dream about many different episodes with a twist. Well, it was one time!

POV-Deana~~~

I looked down to the ground as I heard Mom rattle through her room, closet, and drawers. I knew what she was doing. I may be eleven, but I'm not stupid. Actually, I'm pretty smart, even though I'm music crazy.

Mom was packing her clothes into her suitcase. Dad was still looking at the door where Helga had left. What was Dad thinking, possibly falling for Helga? Sure, it would be cool if she was my mother to begin with, but I don't want a replacement! I love my mom and my dad, and I don't want that to change! I don't want my mother to go away, and I knew that that was what she was thinking about.

Mom came down from the second floor, and as I expected, she was carrying a suitcase and a cosmetic baggy.   

When Dad saw her, he stood up and held her arms. "Where are you going?" 

Mom stood her ground and held her head high. Come, on, Mom, it isn't that serious. He doesn't love her, no way. She was being drastic, wasn't she? Well, wasn't she?

"Arnold," she said, "I have been trying to believe that you were just interested in meeting an old friend, but, but…" She trailed off and I knew that she felt hurt. "I just can't live in the same house as a man who's acting like a little boy with a crush, all right? I saw that look in your eyes, and…"

Dad held up is hands with a really, really surprised look on his face. "Honey, listen, okay? I do not have a little crush on her, okay? I was surprised to see her, that's it. I'd be surprised if I saw Gerald or Sid pop up in my living room, too, okay?"

Mom set down her bags for a second, but I had a feeling it wasn't because she was staying. "Look, Arnold, I saw it in your eyes, okay!" She walked up to him and was about three inches in front of his face. "I know that look! I saw it in all of my friends' eyes when they met the man that they would eventually marry, okay? By experience, I can tell that something you used to have for this girl is coming back up, and I can't live with you until either you realize it and come to your senses or I'm proven wrong. Above all else, I would like it to be the latter."

Daddy walked forward. "Francesca, why are you saying this? I don't have a crush on her! That's just insane! I don't like Helga! Well, I like her, kind of, but not like that! I don't even know her that well, even after she said all of that stuff!"

Mom pursed her lip. I knew she didn't want to do this, but then why was she doing it? Finally, she said the words I didn't want her to say. "Good-bye, Arnold. I have to make sure, okay?" With that, my mother picked up her bags and opened the door. "Tell Deana I love her."

I never would have thought that my family would be split, even temporarily, because of a stupid CD.

POV-Arnold~~~

With that, the woman I loved was gone.

Why would she say that? Of course I don't have a childish crush on Helga Pataki! My child tormentor, who disappeared in the later years of school? Yeah, I never expected her to be so complex, but still, just because I learned something totally and completely different from what I had believed didn't mean I suddenly fell in love with it! 

I had no idea what gave her the impression that I liked Helga. She said it was something in my eyes? Since I'm a psychiatrist, I should know these things.

Oh, wait. Bad example, I guess. But…I can see some things. Especially when they have to do with me.

Suddenly, I heard a choking sound from behind me. It sounded like someone…crying.

I gasped. Deana!

I turned around and there she was, my daughter, standing in the kitchen doorway trying to hold back tears. It wasn't working. Oh, Deana. I walked over to her and knelt next to her. My arms went around her and I hugged her with dear life. The person the two of us loved most had just walked out on us…actually, she left because of me, but I still don't know why!

Why does life have to be like this? I don't even know what's going on because it went by so quickly. 

Right now I have to worry about Deana. Now she needs someone. But for some reason I feel like she knows more about this then I do.

I'm sure I'm sounding very confusing now, aren't I? Maybe a day's sleep will bring me to my senses.

Suddenly I felt Deana move out of my arms. I looked at her questioningly and she looked at me with a mixture of feelings. I didn't blame her for having all of those. She said, "Dad, it's not your fault." She wiped a tear from her face. "It's not Mom's fault either." I almost smiled, but then she said something that tore through my heart. "It's mine. If I didn't make such a big deal about you being Anonymous, none of this would have happened."

Before I could even say a word, she ran up to her bedroom and slammed the door. I knew I'm supposed to tell her that it's nobody's fault, but I felt like she needed some time alone.

POV-Helga~~~

"I'm not…anymore!" Good! I just finished writing the last words to one of the latest songs I'll be playing at the concert. Oh, I'm so excited! I've had to tweak the words to this song I just finished with, because I saw him! I talked with him! 

Of course, now that I think about it, I think I seriously wreaked Arnold's family life. You should have seen how Francesca Tiller ran out of the room and into the bedroom. 

Great. Now I don't know what I did! I don't know if I didn't do anything, or if something happened with Arnold, or if that Francesca woman is furious, or what! Agh. Great.

Well, anyway, at least I'll be seeing them all at the Hometown concert. Maybe then I'll be able to get some things straightened out. I'll be able to see all of my old friends! Well, the gang, at least. Some of them weren't exactly my best friends. But still…

I fell back down on my pillow. Hey, being rich was really pretty cool. After those years of hanging in the background, look where I am! Plus, I get a lot of cool stuff! Great, I sound like a kid again. Sometimes I fall back into what I was like when I was ten, always thinking that objects were amazing. Of course, I didn't exactly start singing for that, and I still don't. Sometimes fame just strikes me. It's common, okay?

Well, anyway, I have to show these to the band. I just have to tell them and everyone else to keep it out of Mr. Disturb-Et Cetera's ears. 

Anyway, about Arnold…. I remember when I was in fourth grade, how I had always tried to defy Arnold of all of his crushes, and now look at me. I'm worried. Well, I guess its different when the guy is married and I've changed so much.

Well, anyway. I better get this to the band and see what they can do.

POV-Francesca~~~

Oh, I didn't want to do what I had done, but it was the only way to be positive that he was still loyal to me…and yet a voice kept nagging in the back of my head. It kept saying, "Is that all you care about? Was there anything else?"

Great. Now I keep thinking about that voice. Is it true? Was the only reason I married Arnold because I thought he was loyal and sweet? Well, was it? I'm consequently baffled by the question. The only reason why I was going, actually, was to see if he was loyal, not to see if…if…

Oh, the guilt. Was this what had kept me to him for so many long years? Perhaps that's why Arnold is now seemingly fawning over this woman…because I haven't ever truly loved him. Have I just admitted something? I have, haven't I?

Perfect. Now I might as well be leaving him for that reason. Maybe I should file divorce?

No! Not measures that drastic. I'm not even certain yet. I do believe I love him…he is the father of my child. We have lived with each other for so long and not once have we fought. He is so sweet and gentle and understanding…and at some points as empty as a bucket, but still.

When I was in my younger years, I had had many boyfriends…and each one of them ended up cheating on me or just wanted me for the physical me. Arnold was the first one to ever love me for myself. Actually, he was the first the first male to ever really talk to me about real, important stuff. Is that basically why I was so attached to him? It's been known to happen.

I could really use a guy like Arnold right now. I need a psychiatrist.

I pulled into a gas station and called a friend from the elementary school faculty. I was planning on staying at her house tonight. I reached her after trying her house phone three times and her mobile twice and she said that she'd be glad to let me stay.  I left the gas station in relief.

I walked out into the parking lot and saw some fraternity boys walking out and jumping into their car. There were some beer cans in their cup-holders, but what was I supposed to do? Give them a lecture on drunk driving?

POV-Deana~~~

It was my entire fault. If I hadn't made such a big fat freaking deal about the stupid CD and the stupid songs and stupid anonymous people, none of this would have freaking happened. 

I was sitting on my bed, partly reading a book and partially watching the ten o' clock news. I got bored really quickly and walked out into the hallway. I could hear Dad listening to the news, too, sitting in his big Lay-Z-Boy chair and looking at something in his hand. He kept looking back and forth from it to our family portrait and my school picture.

He looked up when he saw me walking down the stairs. He had tears in his eyes. My father wasn't ever really ashamed of crying, and for some reason, I was proud of that.

I whispered quietly to my dad, "I' sorry."

He whispered back. "It's no one's fault, Dee. None of us meant to do anything. Don't ever think that, honey." He held out his arms and I walked into them. He gave me a great, big hug. "This will pass by quickly, okay? Don't worry about it."

I leaned back and looked at him. "Daddy, how do you know? Okay, Mom is totally convinced that you've got a thing for Helga. I really like her and everything, but Mom is more important. You know mom. She sometimes likes to test things, and she's never told me why." I looked at his right hand, which was clutching something. "What's that?"

He took the hand off of my shoulder and opened it. "You're mother forgot her driver's license."

Suddenly, a loud dinging sound came from the television.

POV-Helga~~~

I was watching the local news when a news bulletin came on. A picture of a car wreck was on the screen.

POV-Arnold~~~

(It'll be painful for me to write this…sorry, everyone, but I felt like it had to happen. Yell at me later, okay?)

On the screen was a picture of two cars practically entangled with each other outside of a gas station. One was an old convertible, like from 1999 or something, and the other was covered in flames wherever there would be definite features. There was a sense of familiarity over that vehicle, though.

A woman's voice came on over the television. "We are coming to you live from a recent car wreck outside of a gas station on Main Street and Fifth Avenue in Hillwood, Washington, which involved two cars. All bodies reachable have been retrieved, and so far there has been one death, that of Jonas Hangler of twenty years of age, and three severely wounded men of the same age. 

"I have just been informed that there are screams being heard from the other vehicle. These seem to be the ones of a woman, and after clearing some of the flames, we have found that the driver's side has been badly burned and has been slammed hard by the other vehicle. Twisted metal is preventing any immediate rescue for the woman. There are some people saying that the unidentified person may not be retrieved in time, but many are hoping otherwise. We will have more on this story after a short commercial break."

Deana looked from the television screen to me. "Dad?" She sounded like she was on the verge of tears. "Dad, isn't Mom's license plate number D14-6GY?"

My eyes widened as she said this. I understood why she was saying this. "Honey, how could you have seen-?"

"A flame moved and the frame glittered, and I just say it. I'm not sure, but I think that's what it said."

I looked back at the television where a commercial for a new shampoo was being advertised.

Francesca?

POV-Helga~~~

Well, I wonder who that person was. I hope that they'll be all right.

All of a sudden, my cell phone rang. It was my bodyguard. So I'm the nosiest person on Earth, I wanted him to follow Frannie since I thought I'd done something. He hasn't called since I left, so I still have no idea where she is.

Anyway…

"Hello? Cody! So, have you…. Oh, man, I feel terrible…. Stopped at a gas station, anything else? …What? … Are you sure it was…. Oh, Criminy! This is horrible! …No, I can't do that! Yeah, whatever, I know I'm tough, but I can't…. Look, I'm going over there right now, okay? No, I'm going. Shut up, Cody, I'm already walking out of the door. See ya."

I hung up the phone. Now I think that me going over to his house was possibly the biggest mistake I've ever made.

I had my keys in my pocket and I was running down the stairs to the lobby. I had a place to go, and nothing would stop me, not even a busted elevator. 

POV-Deana~~~

It was my mother's car. Well, at least I think it was, but how many license plates in the tri-county area start with D14-6 and something that looks like a G?

If it was my mother, than I don't care what my father says, it was my fault. Entirely mine, no one else's, not no one's, but mine! I wouldn't be able to stand the thought. But what are the chances of it being my mother?

Uh, duh. License plate.

But still, my eyes could have deceived me. They better have deceived me! If they didn't, I won't be able to live with myself.

I can tell that Dad is worried, too. He is the optimistic type, but of course he gets worried! Every human being gets worried!

Suddenly, the news breakage clip came back on during an advertisement for Frank's Frankfurters.

"Hello, we're back with some news of the car accident in front of a local gas station, with two breaking samples of news. First, officials have told me that the woman's screams have weakened, and they are making little progress in retrieving her. There is not much hope for this unnamed person, but fire fighters are trying to rescue her. The other piece is that singer/songwriter and author Helga Pataki has been seen at the site."

WHAT!?

I think that Dad's eyes and mine grew three times the normal size at the exact same time.

"What is she doing there?" Just to let you know, we said this at the exact same moment.

I looked at him and then back at the screen. The woman placed a hand on her ear and said excitedly, "I have just been informed that the fires surrounding the vehicle have been extinguished! The paramedics and fire fighters are now going into the wreckage to retrieve the last person in there."

Dad and I glanced at each other. Oh, please, oh, please.

Suddenly, while the camera was zoomed on to the rescuers, a faint voice yelled out, "Arnold!"

POV-Arnold~~~

"Arnold!"

Did I just hear my name?

"Arnold, if you're watching this, it's me, Helga!"

Helga?!?!

I did a double take as the camera pulled back from the wreckage and back to the newscaster. In the distance was, in fact, Helga Pataki. She was running up to the camera, with a muscular man behind her. She was waving her arms at the camera to get the guy's attention. Well, she got mine. The newscaster turned around and practically ran marathon toward her. "Helga! Helga Pataki!" When she finally caught up to her, with her cameraman behind her, she didn't even look out of breath.

Deana's face was fixed on to the television, and I suppose mine was, too. I really wanted to hear what she had to say to me if it was so important she had to do it here. I wonder what it would be.

Helga's face looked like she really didn't want to say this. She looked worried, but I still had no idea what it was about.

"Miss. Pataki," said the newscaster, "what brings you to a sight like this, and why exactly do you want to address Arnold Tiller?"

Great. That just lets you know how widespread I am now. Is that good or bad, I don't know. Anyway…

Helga started trying to wrestle the microphone out of the woman's hand. "Give me…that…now, okay?" She finally pulled it out of her hand and looked back at the camera. She seemed to be mentally preparing herself for whatever she was about to tell me. "Arnold, look, first of all, I'm sorry. I'm sorry from the pit of my soul, okay? Second, I…I…" She looked like she was about to choke. "Arnold, I'm having trouble saying this, but it's because I've got too much guilt to handle with."

There was now a split scene; half of the screen was picture of the officials finally pulling out the woman's body! The other side was of Helga trying to tell me something. 

The newscaster held her hand to her ear once again. She grabbed the microphone away from Helga. "Oh, wait a minute. They are searching for any identification on the woman…the license plate has melted in the flames and we have found a wallet, but no such form of identification. The woman is alive, but she is working on short breaths. Paramedics are putting her in an ambulance as we speak."

Helga was trying to get the microphone back, but the newscaster was being protective. "Hey, lady, I know who the person is!"

I heard Deana gasp. I felt my heart skip a beat. How did she know who the woman was?

The newscaster stared at her for a moment and then rammed the microphone to Helga.

She gladly took it and gave the woman a look. Then she seemed to bounce back into the mood she had been in earlier. She looked at the camera, and you could tell that she was trying to look at me. "Arnold…" Her voice sounded so somber. It was very unlike her…but then again, I hadn't- "Arnold, I just have to say it. I-I had my bodyguard sort of follow Francesca…."

Deana jumped up and started walking away from the screen. She kept whispering, "No, no, no, no, no…"

"Arnold…it is Francesca. I'm sorry Arnold, it's all my fault."

I started breathing hard. No…it can't be…. Francesca! No, no, no, no, no…

"NO!" Dena was in frenzy and was sobbing. "No! That's _not_ Mom! It _is not_ Mom! _I don't believe you_!" She was crying so hard I thought she would burst. Then I felt the tears on my face. I realized that I was crying almost as hard as she was. I looked back at the television and so was Helga. 

"Arnold, it is all my fault. I should have never have gone to your house. I'm sorry I caused you so much grief. Just to let you know, I'm hoping she gets better soon.

"I have to go now, Arnold. Tell Deana I said I'm sorry."

Then she ran back to her bodyguard and left.

Dena started jumping in emotion. "You're _not_ sorry, you _don't_ care, and it's _my_ fault, _not_ yours!" 

"It is NOT anybody's fault!"

Did I yell that?

Deana pretty much didn't talk, but her sobs were as loud as mine were.

The love of my life may be gone soon. She was in the hospital

I stood up and took her I.D. card from the table. I grabbed my coat and Deana's. "Get in the car."

She wiped her eyes. "Why?"

I opened the door and took the keys of the hanger. "We're going to the hospital." When she didn't move I said, "Now." 

She nodded and took her coat from my hands.

Well, was it too sad? Is it going to be too sad? Or are you feeling how I feel? I won't tell you how I feel, but…. Well, anyways, tell me, okay? Or you could tell me if you basically like it or not, if that's easier. Well, anyways, see ya!

Briana LFBH


	6. Emergency Room

Through the Compact Disc

Humph…I had this beautifully written while I was in an inspirational mood. But curse my father's computer! I'm not allowed to save much because the computer remembers every stinking thing that passes through it, even when deleted, and the memory is incredibly short, so instead I copied it to send to my email address, and while I'm about to send it, the computer blanks out! The screen just goes black and my dad had to reboot the thing. Oh, it made me so freaking mad! But, I'm going to write everything I remember. So, be happy, or, well, be sad, be however you feel, but most of all, be happy…what was I talking about? Oh, yeah, be happy with what you see, please. Please tell me how I did…hint, hint.

Do not own anything unless, you know, there aren't any legal papers for it. Simple enough for you lawyers?

A woman with dark, black hair pulled up into a half ponytail, in her early thirties, and was sitting in a dimly lit room dropped the remote as soon as she heard someone say the name. Widening her eyes, she ran to the table, grabbed her purse, ran out the door, into the elevator, and jogged through the lobby of a Marriott Hotel. She pulled the keys out of her purse and sprinted to her car. Impatiently sticking the keys in the ignition, she drove out of the lot and headed for the direction of the hospital that she hadn't been to in years.

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

Deana's POV~~~

I glanced out of the window, watching the houses we passed come from one side of the window to the next. I sighed as my father drove about 5 miles above the speed limit to get to the hospital. As it was just our luck, my mother had been in a wreck on the other side of town, so they took her to Hillwood Medical instead of Providence, which was closer to our house. 

I wanted to cry; I wanted to cry and be sad, but I couldn't. It was like there was something lodged into my throat blocking me from taking a breath large enough to make tears. It felt horrible, not being able to cry when my mother could be on the brink of death! I couldn't cry when it was my own fault, too. I don't care what dad said, I had a part in this entire thing. And it felt awful. If I hadn't made such a big freaking deal of… well, you know the story by now. Come on, eyes, show some humanity! Oh, they won't listen. But if I didn't so, I felt like I'd burst from my grief. You would, too, if your mother had been in an accident that bad!

I took my gaze from the window to my father in the drivers seat. He's staring straight forward, something he does whenever he's really determined, or has his mind on something. That look is what happens to him whenever he's concentrated on something as hard as possible and still daydreaming about something at the same time. I cocked my head over to see the front of his face. His eyes were scrunched up, and I saw a solitary tear on his cheek, but nothing else. It seemed as though he was having the same problem. I mean, his wife was in mortal peril! A head on collision and then sitting in a burning car for so long… I'm not going to think about that right now. Sighing, I turned to look through the front window as he drove eight miles above the speed limit. Unfortunately, she was taken to Hillwood Medical instead of the closer Providence Hospital since she crashed on the other side of town. 

Another thought dreaded my mind now. We were rushing to get to her, and that was all I could do. It was terrible, that my mother could be fighting life as it is (okay, I inherited my mom's paranoia and showed it at bad times) and all I could do was sit in this car waiting. It's the worst feeling there is, feeling useless, not knowing what to do when someone you love is in trouble. Yet again, I say, it was my fault. I brought this up. If I hadn't wanted that stupid CD… whatever. Dad, please hurry up. Mom, please don't go.

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

Helga's POV~~~

I ran back to Chad, tears in my eyes. I grabbed his arm and told him to get in his car and drive back to his hotel room. He probably figured that there would be no possible way I'd allow him to follow me where I was going, so he did as I told. 

I turned toward where I had parked my car in the gas station parking lot and made my way past the small crowd that had gathered there. I easily did so, thanks to the fact that everyone parted when they saw me. At least they didn't jump me for autographs. Thankfully, they knew this was serious. Seeing my course was clear, I sprinted to my car and practically jumped inside. I left the keys in the ignition, so I thanked God that no one stole it. They better not have, it had tracking devices all over it. 

I started the car up and drove over the curb. Who cares? I had to get to the hospital!

While I was driving, I thought about Francesca. Not only that, of course, but the irony of the situation. I remember back in elementary school, I'd have done anything, literally anything, including having a red-head almost drown, to have Arnold, to get obstacles out of my way. I guess I've matured in some ways since then. I mean, really, the woman may be extremely chary, but still, that accident was pretty awful. What am I saying, it was downright gruesome! Also, the fact that Arnold was already truly heart-bound to her helped me in my speediness. The last fact is that, call me insane, but I'd swear it was all completely my fault. I mean, it was my stupid wanting to be close to Arnold… I looked in the rearview mirror and saw that dreamy expression on my face again. 

Just stop it, Helga. I've got to get to that hospital.

Finally! It's in sight! Hillwood Medical… I haven't been there in years! Shut up, Helga, I've got something to do! No time for memory lane strolls! Let's see… parking, parking, parking, parking spot right there! Wait… it's handicapped. Oh, who cares, the Emergency Room is all that's open now, and the elderly people's appointments are always in the daytime!

I practically leapt out of my car and ran to the front door. As soon as I had, I saw Chad standing right in front of me.

"I thought I told you not to follow me," I said, irritated. Hey, you would, too, pal. 

"It wasn't in my job description to let you go off into a public place whenever there was a big crisis in both your love life and the real life," he answered smart-mouthed.

I jogged past him, saying "Whatever!" No doubt, he followed me.

I busted through the front doors. The receptionist looked up, almost startled that I'd come in so quickly. I walked over to her, leaned over, about to sign in, when I saw a woman waving at me and heard her saying my name.

"Helga! Helga, come here!"

I stood up to get a better view of her. Even after all these years… anyway, I gasped and smiled, giddiness taking over my thoughts.

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

Arnold's POV~~~

I scrunched up my eyes, not wanting to close them, because if I did, I probably would crash, but I was also crying. Francesca, why didn't you just believe me? I was telling the truth! Of course I like her, but I don't have anything near a crush on her! I'm just shocked that SHE wrote all of those songs, and that there was so much meaning in them. It was so different from the Helga I thought I knew and when she came to see me… Well, I haven't really talked with her for about twenty years, so of course I was even more surprised!

I sighed, still driving straight to the hospital. Just a few more minutes, Frannie, please, just stay alive…

Francesca was always a little suspicious, but she had very good reason to be. I just don't know why she had thought that I would hurt her like that! Not only would I never want to, but also there was no existing reason for me to! And to top it all off, I had two people I knew well (well, at least I knew one well) were taking the blame of it all… when it should be me to be taking it. I know I didn't give those college boys the beer, but I guess… no, what am I thinking? Of course it wasn't my fault! It was absolutely nobody's! How was I supposed to comfort Deana and myself and be of any service to Frannie when I had an unnecessarily heavy conscience? 

Agh, whatever! I just had to get to that hospital. Right. Now.

I was so focused on actually getting to the hospital…

"Dad, you passed it!" Deana cried impatiently.

…That I completely didn't notice I actually had.

"Damn!" I whispered, forgetting Deana was sitting right next to me. I went straight into reverse and jerked into the hospital parking lot. Maybe I should've been a little more careful in a hospital parking area, but no time to think about that. I was swerving down every aisle, desperately looking for a place to park.

Deana pointed to the aisle cross from us. "There! Next to that old orange jeep!" (A/N: My dad's, 1972, imagine it big and really bright with a removable metal, white top.) I veered as fast as I could while still being safe into the lot. I had… what happened to Frannie… so far into my mind I was being as safe as possible while still being fast.

I turned off the ignition and jumped out of the car, Deana in synchronism with me. But suddenly, I paused. Maybe I didn't want to go into the hospital, because if I did, then there might be bad news. Something may have happened that would be fatal, and if I went in, I'd know that I was to late to do anything about it. If I just stayed here, then maybe nothing would change about her, and the doctors could help her better. Oh, God, please…

I felt a small hand on my wrist, and turned to see Deana standing there, looking at me like she knew exactly what I was thinking. Apparently, she did. "Dad," she said quietly, but with a lot of force, "I know what you're thinking, because I thought the same thing, too. But if we don't go inside, then we can't do anything. They still probably don't know her name, since they probably weren't paying attention to her." She obviously meant Helga. "Mom needs us right now, and if I don't do anything," her voice was growing louder and stronger, "then I won't be able to live with myself, even if she survives. Dad, you're the psychiatrist, you know that we should go in there."

I looked at her and nodded slowly. She was absolutely right. She is very smart, to knock sense into her own father. "Let's go."

We raced in between cars and down aisles, until we finally got to the doors. I walked in through one, Dee through the other, and walked up to the sign-in sheet. I had just started on the T in Tiller, when I heard a familiar voice to my left.

"Arnold, Deana!"

Both of us looked up to see Helga, and someone else, running up to us. I looked fixedly at the black-haired woman about my age who was extremely familiar. I'm guessing my face changed quickly when I realized who she was, because she smiled as soon as I confirmed it.

"Ph-Ph-Phoebe? Phoebe Hyerdhal?"

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

Phoebe's POV~~~

I smiled warily. "Yes. Hello, Arnold."

"No time to chat, now," said Helga forcefully. "Sign in, Football Head!"

I guess both Arnold and I were surprised that she still called him this when she was irritated, but we didn't have time to show it. Arnold leaned back over the desk and finished scribbling his and his daughter's names. Before he could say anything, however, Helga's own dominant nature barged in.

"Francesca Tiller, recent car accident, you wouldn't tell us what's going on with her, but he's family, so tell him!"

"Is Mom okay?" asked the Arnold's daughter.

"How's she doing now?"

"Please tell us."

"Okay, okay!" said the receptionist. "Now, she's only been in E.R. for a few minutes, but the injuries are a few third degree burns, a concussion, plenty of bleeding wounds, and possibly a fractured rib. So far, she is alive…"

"What do you mean, _so far_?" demanded the girl.

"…just unconscious, and we are trying to diagnose any other injuries. And, what I mean by so far," she said, "is that the concussion is pretty serious. The injuries, both outer and inner, are, too. We're trying to revive her, which may take a while. Her breathing is raspy and she's required an oxygen mask. Now please, be seated, and we will tell you when you may be able to see her."

All four of us looked at each other for a moment. I suppose that everyone else didn't feel like sitting down either.

"Ma'am," said Arnold, hitting his fist on the desk, "are you sure that she will be okay?"

"Sir, I'm sorry," she said, "but I don't know what will happen. Soon I'll have more on file and-"

"Lady, I don't care what you have on file," screamed the girl desperately. It was obvious why, of course. "I want to see my mother!"

"Deana, calm down, she's okay!" said Arnold. "Frannie is okay, honey. We'll be able to see her soon."

"I want to see her _now_!" she tantrum, sobbing. Lord, this was too much for her to think about. She looked only eleven, and from what Helga had told me, it was incredibly worse than what the media showed. "_I want to see her! Why can't I see her? MOM!_"

Arnold took her hand and led her away from the desk and into the waiting room. Poor Deana. This must be very hard for both her and, naturally, Arnold. You could tell that Arnold was extremely near breaking down himself. He's been through enough in his life. His parents, his grandparents… he didn't entail another heartbreak. 

I suppose Helga was thinking around the same thing I was. She looked like she wanted to comfort him so terribly, but she was holding back. It was entirely understandable why, however. Her lifelong love's spouse hurt like this. She obviously didn't feel like he needed comforting from her at the moment. But, oh, dear, how I wish she could… I wish she would! Arnold and Deana were doing their best to comfort each other, but… I don't know why, but instinctively I believe Helga should at least say a few words of soothing! 

Wow. I watch soap operas sometimes, and this should really be made into one. Still, it was a serious matter. I hope the three… the four of them get some peace… and soon.

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

Helga's POV~~~

Come on, Helga. Just do… something! Oh, I don't even know what I'm thinking about? Is it a simple freaking matter of comforting him or the fact that its, well, Arnold? Oh, this is too much in my head! And what's worse, you ask? The fact that there are about four ideas for songs zooming through my head at this very moment, and I still am fighting the urge to just put my hand on his shoulder! For cripe's sake, this is just so complicated! Why can I not bring myself up to this? I'm a grown woman!

Shut up. Once again, I know exactly why! I barely even know the woman and she's affecting my brain so badly! Why? I know why. And by now, you should know, too. Why am I even thinking this?

The most I could bring my self up to was looking at Deana and whispering softly, "It's okay. Nothing bad has happened yet."

I didn't get the response I expected, or anticipated. She glared at my and said, "Are you kidding? The second to worst thing has happened!"

"Deana, calm down," said Arnold, still looking at the floor. "She isn't doing anything wrong."

"Oh, yeah?" she said, turning on her father. "Who cares who means anything, it happened, no matter what!" She started getting riled up, and I could tell she was about to throw a, well, to be honest, my own eleven-year-old self. Whoa. Freaky. "It's my fault you even started thinking bout her, its her fault for coming over, and it's your fault for following her out the door with those stupid gaga eyes!" Her face started scrunching up again, close to tears. "You keep saying it's nobody's fault, but it's yours, Helga's, and most of all, mine! Mom is in the hospital, lying unconscious in a bed, because of all of us… except that Phoebe lady there."

Phoebe bit her lip at that. Arnold thinned out his expression and it was obvious that he was starting to believe she was right. I had to do something now! And believe me, as of now, I was more than up to it.

"Deana, listen," I said. I grabbed her arms and turned her to look at me. "I know that you're feeling bad at the moment. You love your mom, and everyone here is hurting in some way."

"What do you care?" she asked. "If it wasn't for you liking my dad, none of this would've happened."

"Listen, Deana. You are right. I had a part in this. Your father had a part in this. We all had a part in this."

"Um, Helga?" asked Arnold quietly. "What are you thinking?"

"Shh," hushed Phoebe.

"Look Deana. Everyone has done something that caused another. I would bet that if your father hadn't even met Francesca, then this wouldn't have happened. If it weren't for that, you wouldn't be standing here, either. Everything in life is planned out, Deana. Everything someone does causes more than one simple thing. But you know what, Deana? The only way it's your fault is if you did it on purpose, knowing what the outcome would be. You, Arnold, me, or even those college kids, knew for sure what exactly would happen. We don't even know what will happen now. But don't you ever, ever blame yourself for something you did that no one would ever think would lead to this, okay?"

Deana's eyebrows were still scrunched together, but she slowly nodded. "But just because I didn't mean to do anything doesn't mean I can't feel bad."

I thinned out my lips and said, "You know, feel bad. Feel bad, because it's human to have pain. Your father's feeling bad, and even I'm feeling bad because I know that something I did made this happen. If you didn't feel bad about this in any way, that would be callous. Just don't go as far as loading it ALL on your shoulders, okay?" I leaned back, letting go of Deana. "Now," I said, "let's wait for some news."

"Wow, Helga," I heard Phoebe whisper in my ear. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you've had that planned out for a while."

"Actually," I whispered back, "I' glad I didn't start rhyming and putting in vocals."

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

Arnold's POV~~~

Wow. I wasn't sure if Helga really was like how she sang, or if she just made it all up. Of course now that was one point in her favor. Deana actually looked a little calmer now. I think the same went for me, too.

I placed a hand on Helga's shoulder. When she looked over at me, I said, "Thanks, Helga. That was something she really needed right now."

Helga smiled softly. "No problem, Football… I mean, Arnold."

"Hey!" I heard Phoebe say from behind Helga. "What was that?"

Helga turned back around and I let go of her shoulder. "What do you mean?" she demanded.

Phoebe stood up and looked over at a set of bushes outside of the window near the door. We followed her gaze. "I swear I saw something flash behind there," she said. "It looked precisely like a-"

"A camera," said Deana, Helga, and Phoebe.

"Yes," she whispered. "A camera."

Helga and Deana's eyes grew wide and Helga's breath started to get quicker. "What?" I asked. "What's the matter?"

"Get ready for a lot of publicity tomorrow," said Helga. "Crap! This is just perfect!" She walked back to her chair and kicked it. "Paparazzi! There's going to be tons of tabloids with Arnold's and my picture on it! What's worse? Arnold's hand is on my shoulder and I'm smiling and it's right-" she stomped her foot, "-after-" and again "-Francesca's-" and again "-accident!" She exhaled angrily and reached into her back pocket. She pulled out a cell phone.

Well, this is absolutely perfect, isn't it? Stupid tabloids… I have enough to worry about right now, anyway!

"Yeah, George? Helga," she said. "Look, a photographer just got a picture of me with Arnold's hand on my shoulder and me smiling… Shut up, G, it didn't mean anything! Yeah, well, it's probably being sent to the World Inquirer right now, and I want that story stopped… Of course I do! I don't want Arnold or me to look like a cheapskate… Because we're at the Emergency Room at Hillwood Medical… God, Fredson, do you ever watch the news? Never mind, I just want denial on the story RIGHT NOW! …Listen, you work for me, and if you don't do this, I'll have to… Good, I see we've gotten through. Now DO IT!" She turned off the phone and sat back down in a huff. Heck, I would, too, but y head was reeling with everything going on.

I can't believe this has happened. I can't do anything until we get the news, and I really don't like this feeling. I can't wait until we can see Francesca.

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

Deana's POV~~~

It was about two hours after the photographer spied on us. Great, now the rest of the world will think what my mom thought, and look where it got her. Oh, shut up, Deana, I've got to at least try and stop thinking about that. Maybe I should take Helga off of my 'People I Hate' list.

I was curled up in my chair, getting really tired. It was eight o' clock or something when we found out, which meant it was close to ten. Man, I had to start getting back on my sleeping schedule. School was about to start. Oh, who cares about school? I want to know how mom is doing!

Finally. My prayers were answered.

A doctor with a surgical mask around his neck walked up to us. "Excuse me," he said. "Are you the Tillers?"

Dad, Helga, the Phoebe lady, and me all looked up and nodded. Oh, yes! Finally we've got news!

"Well," he continued, "Francesca is okay at the moment…"

"YES!"

"Thank the Lord!"

"Oh, that's great!"

"Fantastic."

The doctor smiled as we all settled back in our seats. "Her breathing is close to normal and we believe we've bandaged and fixed all wounds. She is still unconscious, and hopefully she will return to an awaken state soon. You are not yet able to enter the room, but there is a window if you'd like to see how she is doing.

I instantly stood up. "Come on, let's go!" I looked at the doctor. "Where's her room?"

Amazing! She's going to be all right! She's not going to die! I'll be able to talk to her again!

I looked at Dad. He was leaning his head over the back of the chair, his hands covering his face, and whispering over and over, "Oh, my God. Oh, my God." Helga sighed and leaned forward, grinning. Phoebe looked extremely happy and was looking at the three of us. 

Another doctor walked up behind the first, and said, "I'll take you to her room. There are still a few doctors in her room, so you won't be able to enter."

"We know," said dad, standing up, looking as though he'd been asleep for thirty years, but still as happy as anything. Helga and Phoebe stood up after them.

I was ecstatic. I was going to see Mom. Everything else could wait. Mom was coming first.

So, how do you like it? I hope it meets standards for you all! And please, review! This is right up there with Explanations on my favorites, so I want to make sure you all like it, too. Thanks, guys! **Yes, you're a beautiful audience!** Well said. I want to know just HOW beautiful. **Don't turn your back on us. We won't be ignored!** That's quite enough Linkin Park for today, Phebga. **Aw, already? FINE!** Review, and I'll get the next installment up quickly! **What she said.**

Briana LFBH and PhebgaMFM


	7. Mind Games

Through the Compact Disc

Helgagurl26: Thanks for the comment on the emotions! I like to write those the most! I really hope you like this installment! Yeah, sucks that Arnold still doesn't love Helga, but there'll be a plot twist that'll cause some pain for some people… not saying who or what, though!

Texaco Tex: Yes, I believe that you have about as much amount of mixed feelings as any other reader who's read this, including me! And I'm proud of that! Glad you like Deana, too. I hope you like this chapter as well, and I hope it answers one of your wishes! Just to show you how on the nail you are.

You all hate me, don't you? Everyone who's a fan of this story most likely screamed out 'BRIANA'S BACK! WHERE THE HECK HAS THIS CHILD BEEN FOR THE PAST MONTHS?' Well, I've answered that already, so let's get on the freshly cleaned slate and start up the story again! Yes, I know that Helga does extensively use language in this chapter, but I realized that Helga at this age would do that. Which is why the rating is PG-13 now. Also, I won't be using any more Phoebe Point's of Views. She is a newcomer and I really don't think she has much to say. She's more of an observer than a mover, thus, places an important part with no usage of the word I.

I don't own it, okay? I've waited to long for this to be posted and don't want to waste anymore time!

Francesca's POV~~~

Fire. There was fire all around me. All that I could see was bright, orange and red flames, consuming the metal. Seeing them burned my eyes as much as the heat burned my skin. Where did they come from? Was the metal from… my car? I wasn't sure. The flames were all around me, and I needed to escape; I was only sure of that.

I screamed. I screamed because I was scared, because I was hot, and because I couldn't do anything else. I screamed because my lungs were burning too much to say any words. I screamed… I didn't know why I screamed.

All I saw was fire. All I smelled was smoke. All I heard was the crackling of flames. All I felt was heat and pain.

I closed my eyes, unable to stand the pain any longer. Why was I even in here? Why wasn't I outside, looking at the fire instead of being in it? I opened my eyes again. The flames were still there, only they weren't as bright, and there was an opening in them. I stood up and walked through the gap. I kept walking until I saw someone. I didn't fully recognize him until he spoke.

"Frannie! Frannie!"

"Arnold? Arnold, is that you?"

"Of course."

"Help me," I begged him. "Help get out of here."

He shook his head. God, he shook his head! "Sorry, I can't do that. I have to leave."

"NO!" I ran up to him and grabbed his arm. "You can't! You have to stay with me!"

He turned to look at me, frowning. "Why?"

"Why?" How could he ask that? "Because I need you to stay with me!"

"Why?" he asked again. Man, did I marry a nitwit?

"Because I need you!"

"Why?"

Oh. My. God. "You're loyal to me! You didn't take advantage of me like everyone else did! You're kind and you respect me as a person and you love me."

He looked at me calmly. Too calmly. "Why else?"

I looked at him with a question on my face. Why else? Why else? Why else would I have to need him?

"I know I love you," he said to me, "but is that the only reason why you need me?"

Suddenly, he was drifting away from me. No, wait. I was drifting away from him. He stood there, with his hands in his pockets, looking at me with pain on his face. I was flying back through the flames. But none of them touched me. I was still thinking about what Arnold had said to me, and why he couldn't help me. I saw faces of past boyfriends, all in order of dating, and then I saw Arnold's face.

Then I heard his voice, ringing in my ears. "Is that the only reason? If it is, there's no way I can help you."

I widened my eyes as the flames grew thicker and thinner at the same time.

I opened my eyes, seeing not orange, but white. And I felt pain. I moaned, and I heard talking and yelping.

And I remembered…both the accident and the dream. And I understood why I had left the house because I thought Arnold liked Helga. And that was worse than the pain in my chest and my arms. This pain could not be cured with bandages or medicine.

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

Arnold's POV~~~

I woke up with a jolt and looked at the clock. It was four o' clock in the morning and the phone was ringing. Who on earth would be calling this early?

Pushing the thought out of my mind, I picked up the phone and said, "Tiller residence. Arnold speaking." I was really fighting the urge to ask why someone was calling this early.

"Mr. Tiller?" asked the woman on the other line. "This is Hillwood Medical-"

That woke me up.

"Is she okay? Has she gotten better or worse? What's happened to-"

"Mr. Tiller, calm down," said the woman. "She's conscience now. She just recently woke up. She wants to see you and your daughter."

I sighed and thought a prayer of thanks as my heart leaped. She's going to be okay! She'll be okay! "Can we go now?"

"Yes," replied the woman. "She's been moved to a larger room and you may visit her now."

"Thank you," I said, my eyes starting to well up. I hung up the phone and ran into Deana's room.

I kneeled next to her bed and started to shake her awake. "Dee. Dee, wake up. Honey, wake up."

She stirred slightly and yawned. With her eyes still closed, she whispered,

"What is it, Dad?"

I grinned. "Mom's awake. We can go see her."

Her eyes stayed closed for about two more seconds, then she bolted them awake and almost ran off the bed, diving for her clothing drawers and pulling out the first pair of jeans and tee shirt she could find. Seeing this reminded me that I was still in my nightwear. I saw Deana starting to take of her pink pajamas and then ran of into my room to grab my own clothes.

^*^ ^*^ ^*^ ^*^

Fifteen minutes later, Deana and I were walking into the Emergency Room. I had called Phoebe to tell her the news and she said that she'd call Helga. A doctor was waiting by the desk. She saw us and walked up. "Mr. Tiller," she said; she was the woman on the phone, "I'll take you to her room as soon as you sign in."

I walked up to the desk and wrote Deana's name and mine on the sheet and stood up. I looked at the receptionist and said, "Those women who were with me earlier… let them in, okay?"

She nodded and went back to her files.

I turned to the doctor, who said, "Come with me. She wants to speak with you. I've also called Helga Pataki, after telling the hotel manager that it was urgent."

"Good. She'll want to know."

I swear that I heard Deana whisper, "I don't know why." I didn't bother responding. Deana was having about as much to go through as me, who was I to snap at her now?

About five minutes late we got to area where Frannie was. The doctor stopped at Room 147. "Here's the room."

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

Helga's POV~~~

Who the crap would call me at this hour? I reached over the pillow next to me and answered in my most awake voice possible, "Hello, Pataki."

"Ms. Helga Pataki, Hillwood Medical is on the line for you," said the guy that was down in the lobby. "Would you like to an-"

"YES, YOU FREAK! Put them on!"

I didn't have to try to be awake anymore.

The news would be either good or bad. I was hoping for good, but I was expecting bad, if that even makes since to you.

"Ms. Helga Geraldine Pataki?"

"Yes, what is it?" I said.

"This is Doctor Wiles at Hillwood-"

"Yes, I know that already, now how is Francesca?"

The doctor actually paused. I hated her. "Mrs. Tiller is conscience and is ready for visitors. The Tillers are already here, and apparently expecting your arrival."

No duh. So was I.

"I'm on my way."

The moment I set down the phone, I dived for my drawers. I slapped on the first pair of jeans and shirt that I found and ran for the door.

And of course, at that very moment, somebody decides to call me on my cell phone! Isn't life fun? Wait a minute. Nobody knows my cell phone number. No one except…

"Phoebe, thank God!" I grabbed the phone from my dresser and brought it outside with me.

"Hello?" I said when I hit Talk.

"Helga?" said Phoebe on the other line. "I'm sorry, but it took me forever to find your number… You're awake, have you gotten the news?"

"Yeah. Are you on your way?"

"I'm puling up right now."

"Well, I just got out of my room," I said, running to the elevator and pushing the Down button. "I'll be there in about fifteen minutes."

"Okay. I'll see you there."

"Goodbye."

"See ya."

The elevator finally reached the bottom level and I dashed through the lobby. I didn't even care that the stupid guy at the desk was yelling at me to slow down. Like anyone was going to be walking inside or outside this early (except me)? Yeah, right.

For the second time tonight I jumped into my car and stuck the key into the ignition. It revved for a few seconds. "Shit," I whispered. I saw Chad walking out of the hotel as I pulled out of my valet spot. Does the man ever sleep? Huh? Does he?

It took me about ten minutes to get to the hospital. I sped, but there wasn't a single car on the road anyway.

I know that I really didn't know this woman, but I was concerned. Don't ask me why. The heart feels what it feels. And even after all of this had happened, I felt guilty, because my heart was still feeling what it had been feeling since I was a kid.

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

Deana's POV~~~

I felt like crying. Mom had woken up! I could sing, but I was to overwhelmed about seeing her and speaking to her. It felt like ages since she had stormed out of the house with her suitcase in hand, and now she was lying in a hospital bed. Well, that's better than the alternative (way better).

"This is her room," said the doctor we were following. "There is a nurse inside to monitor her."

My dad smiled totally genuinely. "That's fine, ma'am. Just fine."

Smiling, the doctor opened then door and let us in.

I could feel tears of relief coming in.

Last time I saw her, the only thing I was worrying about was a divorce. Now I was just happy that she survived the accident.

Dad leaned his head against the wall and started smiling and crying at the same time. "I knew you'd make it," he said. "Oh my Lord, I knew you'd make it!"

He looked up at my mother and smiled. He walked up and grabbed her hand tightly. Mom was lying on her back, apparently not strong enough yet to sit up. But I could see her smile back.

"Hi, Arnold," I heard her say hoarsely. "It's good to be back."

Dad looked up and one of his infamous ear to ear, literally, smiles appeared on his face. Just what I was thinking, I thought.

Only then did I even dare look at the monitors, machines, and wires that were all through her body. She had obviously been beaten up badly, for lack of any better word. There was gauze and a bandaging over part of her head, and some of her skin hadn't been cleaned off, so some traces of blood were still on it. I was glad that there was still a blanket over the rest of her body. From the

damage report I'd heard, I didn't want to see more bandaging sticking out from under her hospital dress.

After my dad talked to my mom some more (I was lost in my own thoughts), Mom looked over and saw me. "Deana," she said quietly. Hearing my name jerked me from my thoughts. "Deana," she said again, only louder.

I bit my lip and looked at her, feeling my eyes well up with tears again. My throat tightened as I walked closer to her. Let me tell you, no eleven year old should ever see their mother being pulled from a flaming car, taken into an ambulance, and then see the results, all while she was still thinking about her dramatic exit.

"Mom," I said. My voice cracked. I didn't care. "Mom!" The tears came freely know, but that wasn't important. I walked over and gave her a bear hug, being careful not to touch any cuts or bruises. She hugged me back as well as she could with the IV still in her arm.

"Deana," she said to me. For a while, all was silent while my family hugged.

Then a door opened. The Oriental woman rushed in (I think her name had been Phoebe… yeah, that was it), followed by Helga Pataki. Dad and I looked up for a moment when we heard the door open.

Dad, still holding tightly to mom's hand, stood up. "Hey, you two," he said.

Helga looked at Mom and grinned widely. "Thank God, she's awake!" Behind her, Phoebe just smiled. She looked almost as relieved as Helga.

Then, I saw something out of the corner of my eye. Helga, smile fading, looked at Francesca, harder than usual. I saw my mom, mouthing words almost unnoticeably. I didn't catch every word, but I did read one: 'later'.

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

Helga's POV

"I need to talk to you later." Those were the words--at least I thought they were--that Frannie had said to me. Now all that I had to think about was 'why'. Why would she need to talk to me so soon after she saw Arnold and Deana?

Whatever it was, it could wait.

I was so excited about Frannie's good condition, but I knew that I had to give Arnold and her their space. But even now I couldn't help but feel that annoying tickle of jealousy that I hated. It wasn't going to get me anywhere with him, and I knew that. That little old nine-year-old self of me wanted her out of the way, and it was horrible.

Trust me, you never want to argue with yourself.

I turned to Phoebe and smiled. "She sure is lucky, isn't she?"

Phoebe nodded in agreement, looking at Arnold, Deana, and Francesca hugging, crying, or just talking. She turned to me and had that stupid, solemn, concerned expression on her face. I always hated that, because I knew she was going to ask me something that was really important. "Helga," she whispered, "is ice cream really still bothering you?"

I snorted quietly and shook my head. "You still remember that lame code word?" I asked. Yeah, I was trying to change the subject. Phoebe was too smart, though. "What else do remember from that long ago?"

Phoebe eyed me. I knew she would. "Helga, it may be over a decade since I've been with you, but not many people change very drastically, even over that sort of extended course of time. Please answer the question."

I sighed and sat in one of the chairs in the room. "You haven't changed much either, Pheebs," I breathed. "I guess that's good. Okay, so, yeah, no duh, it's bothering me. I can't help it, and it really bites."

Phoebe sat down next to me. I had my head in my hands, steaming out a little bit. I was actually very glad at that moment, for my own sake, that all attention wasn't on me. Well, except hers. "That is completely natural for you, "soothed Phoebe. I don't like yet appreciate it when people talk to me like that. "You still love him, and I can perceive that after all of this time. Don't

blame yourself for wanting to be with him. It's something you've felt for an enduring period of time."

"Yeah, like most of my life," I mumbled angrily.

"Well, yes, that, too," observed Phoebe. "I completely understand this, Helga. I studied it for some time in college. You've had a long yearning for him, and then when you realize that he has a wife, your conscience takes over, put that small part of you still savagely--"

I groaned. "Please stay out of my head for a minute!" I pleaded loudly. She was practically reading my mind, but she was sounding like a damn shrink, which I really didn't need from her at the moment! I was furious at myself and was, as usual, taking it out on someone else. "Yes, it still bothers me, and yes, I know why! You're repeating things that I already know, for Criminy's sake! Shut up!"

It was then that I realized that I was speaking loudly and in a very shrill voice. I was also standing, and figured that the look in my face was enough to give my frustration away. Everyone in the room, even the nurse, was staring at me.

After a moment, Arnold said, "Are you okay, Helga?"

I gulped and tried to compose myself. I looked at Phoebe and whispered an apology. I sat back down and looked forward, trying to get my thoughts straight and to calm me down.

The door opened. Leave it to Chad to break an embarrassing moment. Apparently he noticed the tense feeling in the room. "Uh…" he said, "I'll be in the hall." He closed the door and disappeared as soon as he had appeared.

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

Deana's POV~~~

I lifted my eyebrow and looked at Helga, just as everyone else was. I wasn't paying attention to Helga and Phoebe's conversation beforehand, but from what it sounded like, Helga was having problems with this whole ordeal personally. I don't exactly know why, but it unsettled me. I had a fraction of an idea what she was talking about. The word still… reading her mind…. Okay, so I had a very good idea about it. No way I was going to talk about it, though.

Dad turned back and stroked my mom's cheek. "What was that about," he whispered.

I shrugged and tried to look clueless. "Probably nothing," I discarded aloud.

Inside, though, I was still wondering how this would affect the whole soap-opera like ordeal.

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

Francesca's POV~~

Pretending is no easy thing for me, especially when it's something this deep. Finally, though, after a few hours, Arnold and Deana grew hungry and tired. Helga had already taken a short nap, and Phoebe had gone home to check her phone messages and faxes.

Helga stayed behind as my family (family… I can barely use the word right now) left to the hospital cafeteria. A nurse had brought me food, but I wasn't in the mood to eat anything.

She stayed silent for a few moments. It was torture. I have not the slightest clue why I needed to express myself to Helga, of all people, before anyone else. I guess she could just relate, somehow, someway. It was an odd feeling.

Before the crash, I could barely stand her anymore. Now, I… I don't even know anything anymore! That dream just-

"So," said Helga. "Why did you need to talk to me?"

I bit my lip. I had gone through to much pain in the last hours. Please, Helga. Don't hate me because I have… had Arnold. Listen to me. "Helga," I began. "Get over here, girl. I don't have long, and I have a lot to talk about."

Yes, please don't hate Francesca. A lot about her history is about to be revealed in the last chapter. I know most of you want to strangle her until she's blue. But, cough, a time will come… No more about that, anymore. Too big of a cliffhanger? Trust me. The next chapter will be insane. It'll be worth the wait. Wow. I can't believe this. I started just wanting to relate Helga to all of those songs and jazz, and now, here I am, with near deaths, tragic histories, and even an original spin-off (of which I want to be published someday… oh, yeah… I got plans, baby!) I hope you enjoyed this! Oh, and read My Hair Is Down, which was also recently updated!

Ya Gotta Love Her!

BrianaLFBH 


	8. Reality Check

Through the Compact Disc

**WARNING: This chapter contains explicit references and descriptions to abuse and sexual situations. It also contains high usage of cursing. Please take note of such as you begin to read the story. Rating has been increased to PG-13.**

Okay, so here is the Special Place: Review time!

All: Okay, so here's the thing on where I've been for the last eternity. It can all be explained quite simply and in one word, but I feel like typing a long excuse. You see, my mom's computer is down and sick, so I can't go on the internet there, so I have no encouragement to write my fanfics! And my dad just got a new girlfriend, who's moved in, and she has a daughter my age, and I really don't want to look like a fanatic in front of her. She's very accusing and if she knew I wrote about a cartoon SHE really didn't like, I'd never hear the end of it! Alas, I must keep it a secret from her and never, ever type stories there. So now do you see my dilemmas? Also, I've been really focused on my social life and the original works like poetry and a series and even an original spin-off on this very story. Also, I'm at my grandmother's with my highly annoying four year old brother, my ice cream melted in my lap, Santa doesn't exist, and I have a very irritating mosquito bite on my elbow. Interesting? ~Silence~ EXACTLY! I just bored you out of you wits so that you'd be anxious to read!

Texaco Tex: Ok, yeah! Go me, go me, go me, go girl! Got the right adjective yet? Sorry, I just love your reviews. You increase two things at the same time: morale AND the circumference of my head! Seriously, though, thanks! 

Helgagurl46: Well, I'm not denying what you said, but I'm not going with it either. Very analytical there. I approve! Anyway, this is a very large fic that will change the relationship between Helga and Francesca, and it might even make you squeal after what you said. Also, Deana really WON'T appreciate that at the moment, will she? Thanks for taking so much interest in my stories! (And since your user name violates so many spelling rules on my spell check, I had to add your name to the dictionary. Feel special with all your bad grammar usage, girlfriend! Ok, back to reality…)

Frozen Sun: I bet you're thinking that NOW, huh? Ah, no worries… at least until your done reading… WHO KNOWS HOW LONG I'LL BE AWAY THEN? I'll try harder, okay?

Disclaimer: Well, I don't own Hey Arnold, hospitals, Planned Parenthood Association, or any of that special stuff, okay? Oops! Did I just let something slip? Oh, well, I have to be legal here. 

Francesca

I swallowed the saliva that had accumulate in my mouth and said, "Helga, get over here, girl. I don't have long, and I have a lot to talk about."

Helga looked at me like I was insane. I think she thought why I wanted to speak with her. Ideas were running across her eyes about whether I was going to blame her for my condition and scream or cry about how I was jealous earlier. Okay, so, both of those things were still on my mind, but give me some credit! I wasn't going to say anything like that. 

"I'm being serious, Helga, come here." I heard my voice crack. I suppose that my vocal cords were heated by the fire. It did hurt a little bit to speak.

Finally, Helga finished looking back and forth suspiciously and pulled a chair to the side of my bed. "Okay, first of all," she said, "I am so sorry for making you get all mad and everything. Arnold's your husband right now, and I shouldn't have ever interfered, but you know, please don't chew me out, because my intentions were good, and if you start yelling at me, I'm going to have to argue back, you know."

I smiled lightly. "Nothing like that," I replied. She seemed to loosen up. "However, what I'm going to say is very serious. It is my own apology. It may take a while, so I'll have to talk quickly before Arnold and Deana come back.

Helga looked at me curiously. "Why are you speaking to me in private if it doesn't even have anything to do with me?"

"Because it does. Maybe not directly, but somehow, yes, it does."

 She seemed to consider this for a few seconds, and then straightened in her seat. "Shoot."

I took a deep breath and thought encouraging thoughts. I hadn't spoken of this story to any except for Arnold and my immediate family (excluding Dee). "I first met Arnold in high school. I'm sure that you must have seen us together at least once in our lives."

Helga nodded. "Now that you mention it, yes."

"Well," I continued, "I'll have to start before my meeting him." I pushed myself up onto my pillow as high as I could go without sitting. "Before I met Arnold, I had numerous boyfriends. They all started out better than the first. My first actual boyfriend, a steady one, was protective. No, that's too nice of a word. He was possessive of me, over-bearing, not letting me go out with my friends if any boys would be there. I got out of this relationship after a few weeks."

"Jerk," I heard Helga mutter.

"He's not the worst. After him, I was a little fidgety about dates. I finally went out with someone who was pretty athletic, a good student, pretty popular. He was nice to me at first. He was very romantic and sweet. One day, though, I was late to a date because of a tutoring my mother made me go to. I told him this and he started to yell at me. We were in a parking lot when he grabbed my arm and told me to work better in my promptness, cheat on my classes to avoid failing and having to go to tutorials. This escalated to twisting my arm around if I got him mad, the occasional slap on the cheek. Besides this, he was his usual self, so I passed it off as stress. The he beat up one day when he saw me hanging around with some of the male track team. He accused me of cheating, saying I was starting to break his heart. A friend saw a bruise on my shoulder in the locker rooms and reported what he was doing to me. Afterwards, I just kept looking for other guys who would comfort me, be sweet and genuine, as my previous encounters seemed to be at first. It got worse, though. Some of my boyfriends convinced me, sometimes forced me, upon threats, to drink with them, to do things to them and myself I didn't want to. They made me touch them in places that…" I suddenly found myself shivering and on the verge of tears. I closed my eyes and took another breath to calm my nerves. I glanced at Helga, who had a look of contained rage in her face. I nodded my head, as if I read her mind. "Go ahead. Say it. I'm thinking it."

"Those mother fuckers!" Helga said loudly. She tried not to scream it to loud, but it looked like she could yell through five walls if she wanted to. "I hate people like that! Those damn bitches, they don't deserve to live! Damn them to hell! Fuck 'em, for the loud of crap they did to you! Forcing you to, oh, Gawd, I'm so fucking mad at them! How could they even dare? Those jerk-offs! Oh, I just, oh, oh, that's so…" She let out a huge moan and looked down at me. In her cursing, she had stood up and paced around my bed twice. "Sorry, Fran. I'm done." She hastily took her seat.

I shook my head weakly, both sad at my remembrance of these experiences and amused at Helga's reaction she was leaning forward on me, still whispering under her breath, 'How could they?' 

I continued with my story. "All of these people started to tell their low-life friends about me, what they did to me, but they lied on many parts. They said I talked dirty to them, that I moaned happily whenever I was told to lick them somewhere. I was passed along, forced to strip or make out or masturbate them. I would cry openly whenever I was told to. It struck daggers into my soul every time I touched one of them. It was so disgusting, so humiliating that I let them take me this far into their life of sex and drugs that I held myself from telling anyone. Whenever I wouldn't comply with them, I was hit. Whenever they finished using me, they hit me and told me to never speak to anyone of their little sessions with me."

"They deserve to be punished for what they did," Helga snarled. I could see fire lighting up in her eyes.

I bit my lip and looked intently at her. "Are you okay?"

She nodded and blinked the fire from her eyes. She said, "Criminy, this is deep," and rubbed her eyes.

Once again, I continued. "I knew no one would believe me if I told anyone, especially my friends. My friends all had boyfriends that truly felt care, concern, sometimes even true love for them. They were happy, and they saw they jock, popular, perfection that those bitches played out in public. So it kept going, getting even worse. I was being forced to make out with other women; prostitutes being paid to make them happy by seeing me suffer. Some were even their own girlfriends, but I never got to hear their names. I could never talk to the ones that suffered with me. I'd be made to hide their cocaine, drink alcohol until I passed out, smoke with them, drive with them, and have sex sessions with them… I was never penetrated, but I felt like a slut. I felt like I'd never been a virgin, even though I was one. They all would just continue to leave me behind I would stupidly continue searching for better people. It was my goal in life to find someone who wouldn't hurt me, but I kept looking in all of the wrong places.

"Finally, I found someone who seemed to be great. He wasn't in the same league as those other guys. He was a performer. He was in Drama, very good at English, in Art and other performance extracurricular activities. We went out steady for about two months when it started."

Helga glared not necessarily at me, but it went in my direction. "Oh, man. The slobs that went to our school…"

"Exactly," I said. "Anyway, he started to try and come onto me whenever we were in front of my house after a date. He knew my mom worked until midnight, and he figured he could do what he pleased with me. Then, finally, he told me that he had heard the rumors about me, about how I was amazing in bed, how I moaned and groaned. I told him that the moaning was from my sobs, and that they made me do everything, but he wouldn't listen. He kept trying to get me into my room. Alone.

"And one day, he did."

Helga

My eyes widened with both shock and rage. What these people did to her… even f we were on unpleasant terms at the moment, what they did deserved the highest justice. Tearing her like that! It was so much worse than what happened to me! I just had neglecting, light abuse, and a split personality. Oh, and my undying affection for Arnold.

One Christmas present had gone very awry.

"No way," I whispered hoarsely. Then, before I could shut my big mouth, "What did he do to you?" Now I felt like I was pushing. But I was, and who cares right now, I had to know!

Francesca was close to crying when she started to speak again. "Well," she said, "he said on our date that he realized that he was being wrong, that I was right and that he was wrong. After he made his apology I kissed him intimately. We started to make out in the car and then drove home. He said he had to use the bathroom so I let him in my house." She closed her eyes tightly, remembering the horror. 

Realization dawned on me. My mouth dropped as the truth formulated in my mind. "Oh my god…" I said. "Did he-"

I didn't get to finish my sentence because Francesca started to talk again. "I was on the couch, watching TV and waiting for him to come out and say goodbye. Then he walked in front of me, with his shirt off. I immediately knew what he was going to do and screamed." She closed her eyes again and thinned out her lips. When she spoke next, her voice was even raspier than before from held back tears. "I screamed and screamed and ran away from him but he was faster than me. He grabbed me with a strength I didn't know he had and dragged me up to my bedroom. He kept muffling my screams with his hands, and then finally, a shirt of mine. He held down my arms while taking off my clothes. I tried to kick him off but…" She squeaked as tears finally started to penetrate her eyes. "But he kept going. He kept saying that he knew I was ready, he knew I wanted it and that I liked it. I didn't, though. It was the most horrifying…" She looked down from her spot on the ceiling and to me. "Came I please skip this part?"

I nodded slowly and had an urge to hug her. I felt strange, completely out of character. It was then that I noticed the tears streaking down my own face. I think that they were there around the time Francesca's was. 

Francesca's story wasn't over yet. And even through the happiest part of it, it would result in something that, for me especially, would be dumbfounding.

Francesca

Finally I began to cry as I talked about my ex-boyfriend raping me. I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to stop, or that it would hurt my stomach to an extreme level if I did, though, so I tried to keep it from sobbing out of control. I still felt as if I should finish, though. I had finished with the worst part, but I hadn't gotten to the most important part.

"The next day I sat on the side of the school, near the Dumpsters, contemplating whether I should run away or tell someone or something. I thought that no one would go over there in the mornings before school, so I decided to cry. It turns out some one did go back there in the mornings. Someone walked by that side of the school on his way from his house."

"Arnold," Helga whispered without much emotion in her voice. Now was the time that she may be affected the most. We were talking about her one and only true love since who-knows-when. 

I nodded. "Arnold spotted me before I saw him, and he walked over to me to see what was wrong. I almost didn't tell me, but…"

Helga smiled lightly, understanding. "He got you, didn't he? He has that sort of supernatural power over people to make them spill if there's something wrong." Her eyes got misty as she remembered some of the times he'd done that with her friends, possibly even her. Who knew, really? I just hoped that she knew I didn't have a grudge against her… or anyone except myself right now.

"He got me to tell him everything. I hadn't even met him before and I spilled my secrets to him. He was definitely concerned about me, and I liked that about him. I was a stranger and he helped me like my friends wouldn't. I told him everything from the beginning. And he sympathized. When I got to the, uh, last part, he grabbed my arm and dragged me to the counselor's office. He told me to tell her what happened and I was taken immediately to a Planned Parenthood center. They ran some tests, and it turned out that I wasn't pregnant. At least my boyfriend wasn't cruel enough to now use protection. Arnold went with me."

"He would. He always butts into people's business whenever they need to be butted in," Helga added. She seemed to be in a generally lighter mood once we were on the topic of Arnold, I noticed. It made me hate myself even more.

"Yeah," I said. "Anyway, after this happened and all of the people who abused me were punished, Arnold became a very dear friend of mine. He seemed to have what I was looking for in all of the wrong places before: he genuinely cared and was concerned for me. It's all I ever wanted to see in anyone, and I found it in him. We started to date and Arnold really liked me. We went to college together, and near the end of senior year he proposed. I took the offer and married him, later having Deana. Then, here we are." I lifted my hand as if to behold where I was at the moment.

Helga smiled and nodded her head, about to stand up and walk out. Then, she blinked and looked back to me. "There's more," she said, "isn't there?"

I smiled solemnly. "Yes. It's hard to explain, though."

"Try me."

The whole point of the conversation was reaching its height. 

Helga

I listened intently to the shocking words that came from Francesca's mouth. 

"You've heard me say how I was looking for a man that simply cared, someone who would just worry about me. My friends didn't give a crap about me, so I looked for that in a romantic interest, so to speak. I found genuine concern in Arnold, and I held on to it. After all that had happened to me before, I didn't want to separate myself from the reward at the end of the trip. 

"The truth is, that's the reason why I went with him everywhere. He was a shield for me to use. With him I'd never be hurt emotionally. With him I'd be respected, I'd be safe. I'd be protected. I wanted that concern so much that I drew myself into an illusion. I knew that Arnold truly did, truly does, love me. That's why I thought I loved him." She closed her eyes and sniffed. Tears rolled slowly down her cheek.

Oh, no. Before she even finished, I knew. I knew what was coming and my eyes widened in shock.

"I never did actually love him," she finally whispered. "I wanted tom, and I thought I did, but never, ever did my heart ever actually feel for him. Never." She spat out the word 'never' like it tasted sour in her mouth.

I started to breathe heavily and stare at her. It wasn't possible. There was no way that Fran couldn't love Arnold! It just didn't make sense! None of it made any remnant of sense!

But it was true. I could see it in her eyes that she wasn't joshing me. 

And then that sickening window of opportunity came up. Fran doesn't love Arnold! There's a spot for me now! I pushed it away angrily. I hate myself for thinking that! But I did, and that was the truth. Criminy! Why on earth was this happening?

I stood quickly from my seat. I was too frustrated to sit. I wanted to just scream from the confusion. If she had never loved him, wouldn't she have known before know, the worst possible time to break up with a husband?

Wait. She was going to break up with him, right? She had to! If she didn't then she'd just be keeping up the charade!

I had to say something. NOW! "Is all of that true?" I asked desperately.

"Yes," Francesca said. "Believe me; it hurts to finally come to this accursed conclusion."

"But what are you going to do, Francesca?" I asked. I turned to her with my arms open, waiting.

She shrugged lightly in her spot. "I don't know. I'm afraid of telling him, but I know I have to. I'm worried about Dee, too."

"You have to tell them sometime, and the sooner, the better." I let out a groan/growl. If I was this frustrated, imagine Francesca! I sat down in the chair I'd been in before she called me to her, messing with my hair. I fiddled with the thin pink ribbon that went through the lower layer almost unnoticeably. Yes, I still held it with me. You got a problem with that? "Listen, Francesca, it's been a rough week, hasn't it?" I could here Francesca chuckle slightly at the almost random remark. "If you don't want to tell your family, I guess that I could." I was trying REALLY hard to be nice right now.

Francesca refused, saying, "You shouldn't have to do that for me, Helga." She reached a hand out to grab a small piece of paper. "Can you come here, please?" I walked over to her and took the piece of paper from her hands. "I'd like for you to-"

Suddenly, the door opened and Arnold, Deana, and the nurse walked in. Oh, yeah…

Arnold

Okay. What was going on here?

I suppose that the two of them say the puzzlement on mine and Deana's faces. Helga smiled brightly and extravagantly. "Hi, guys," she said. "Francesca and I were just having a talk, but I'm hungry now, so I'm gonna get something to eat, okay, bye!" She walked hurriedly out of the room to what I figured would be the vending machines.

Deana and I had just finished eating some cheeseburgers from a vending machine (technology these days!). The nurse had approached us and said that she needed to check up on Frannie, and we said that we'd just stop by and say hi before the nurse had to deal with her.

I walked over to Francesca and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Then I lifted my head and looked at her hard. I tasted water. Had she been crying with Helga? 

"Are you okay?" I whispered so only she could hear.

She nodded. "Yes, Arnold," she said blandly. "I'm fine."

"Sir?" said the nurse. "I need her alone now."

I nodded and took Deana's shoulder and walked outside. Before the door closed I waved softly to Frannie and mouthed 'I love you'. I saw a trace of a smile before the door shut.

Deana rolled her eyes and looked up at me. "Dad, something was going on in there with Mom and Helga." I couldn't help but notice a harsh tone in Helga's name.

"I know," I said, leaning against the wall, "but I don't know what it is. She was crying though."

Deana leaned forward with her mouth slightly opened. "Why would she be crying with Helga?" she asked rhetorically. "Why don't we go ask her what was going on."

I nodded. This was just one of those times when I had to poke in and see what was going on for my own sake.

Helga

I walked over to the vending machines. There was no one there, so I felt absolutely no pressure on myself as I kicked a chair and groaned yet again. This was too freaking MUCH!

I sighed and opened up the folded piece of paper Francesca handed me. She didn't have time to tell me what it was, but it was obvious once I started reading it.

It was a song.

_I'm standing inside these flames, and they're circling around me, and I can't move, my feet are melted to the ground_

_You're standing in front of me inside this tower of heat I see; you just stay there, like there's something to be found_

_You speak to me. And I hear it, but it's just too hard to believe your words_

_I'm pulling back. And I don't want to, but I can't believe what I heard_

I read on, amazed at the lyrics. I don't know where she got the first verse from. It seemed like a dream, almost. At the bottom of the piece of paper there was a note from Francesca.

_Make this a song. Sing it sometime. Change anything in here that you like. I'm not good with music, but I'd like for __Arnold__ to hear it from someone as talented as you are._

That was it. I leaned against the wall and broke down. I couldn't handle it. The love of my life's wife didn't love him, but he loved her. And now she trusted me with her song, her mourning over the truth? It was so soap-opera-ish that I couldn't take it!

I wiped my eyes quickly and bought a hot dog from the vending machine. Technology is a weird thing indeed.

Suddenly, someone walked into the small nook with a large cart full of newspapers. So. This is how early they got here. He didn't seem to notice me as he piled up the new copies of magazines and tabloids.

Tabloids!

As soon as he left, I shifted through the numerous tabloids. Just as I expected. In the corner of one of the tabloids was a picture of me in the waiting room, next to Arnold. These damn things sure get printed fast, huh? The headline caught my eye. In bold print it read:

**Famous Pataki Home Breaker? What is She Doing with ****Arnold**** at the ER?**

Details on page 23.

I screamed quietly (or as quiet as possible) in rage and ripped he tabloid in two. I sat back down and took a forceful bite of my hot dog.

I heard a voice say, "Helga?" I looked up and saw Arnold and Deana walking toward me. I got up quickly and tried to keep a straight face in front of them. The last few days were taking a lot out of me. "Hi, guys. How's Frannie?"

"That's what we could ask you, you know," said Deana with an attitude. "What were you and my mom talking about? Spill it now." She crossed her arms expectantly.

I looked at Arnold and cocked an eyebrow. "Are you sure that this is your daughter, Arnoldo?"

Arnold bit his lip and said, "Really, Helga, could you just tell us what we missed?"

I should've known they'd ask this. I rolled my neck around and crossed my arms defiantly. "Sorry, you two, but I'm in a confidence. I really can't say. Only Francesca can, and she will."

Deana walked up to me and bore holes into me with her eyes. "You tell us now."

I really fought the urge to say anything related to it. It was Francesca's choice to do this. Suddenly, we were interrupted by a bed being rolled down the hallway and surrounded by doctors. It attracted all of our attention. Deana, however, was at the best position to see the face.

"Mom?"

Evil little bugger, aren't I? I give you this huge chapter to make a bond with Fran and Helga and Francesca about to do something big, then this. Well, this was written in about four hour's time using estimation. Yes, four. After weeks, four hours. But did I give you a long enough, emotion riddled enough piece to tide you over for a while? I hope so! Or else what would be the point? Anyway, I hope this gets read. Tell em how you like it via Review button. Come on, I know you want to. And I'm offering product placement. If you give me a sufficient enough review, I'll include an ad for your story(s). Anyway, it's one in the morning, my grandma's about to kill me, so good-night and Happy Easter! (Long time since Christmas of 2002, huh?)

You Gotta Love Her! (No matter how mad of an updater she is)

Briana Loves Foot Ball Head~~~^


	9. Dreaming

Through the Compact Disc

Sorry, it took me having to read every last review on every last story to realize that I have a duty here and can't go off to my original work until all of you are satisfied. But it's cool, because I like it here, and my absence has made me feel sad. Anyway, there's a little poll going on now for you guys to choose the beginning of the next chapter in Explanations because, frankly, I've hit the biggest roadblock imaginable. Here are the choices:

A. Rhonda and Harold are on the phone discussing Helga and Arnold's budding relationship.

B. Arnold and Gerald are talking about Arnold's complex feelings in the issue (Trust me, there are some).

C. Helga brooding about the kids at school and daydreaming about Arnold.

D. Gerald, Phoebe, Lila, and Sid talking about what's going on and their different clashes.

Remember, this is only the beginning for the chapter.

Now, we shall go onward into our sad story.

Disclaimer: Hey, look it's a bluebird! And it was a piece of paper! Wait… it's written to me. "You don't own jack squat so don't pretend you do. Signed, the Law Eaters." EEP! Oh, no, wait! Bluebird, don't go! All the bluebirds who come here get hit by the… Oh, never mind… stupid kamikaze birds! (I don't own the kamikaze birds either, Alfonso Cuaron and Warner Brothers do).

Deana

"Mom!"

Oh, God! Mom was in her bed, surrounded by doctors pushing machines that were connected to her and hooking wires to her. Forget what was going on with Helga. Forget everything. What was wrong with Mom?

"Francesca?" Dad and Helga said together. Dad's was obviously more distressed.

I started to chase the stretcher at top speed, crying out, "Mom! Mom!" I saw the stretcher yards ahead of me disappear behind the doors of a restricted area. I was almost through the doors when a nurse popped out of no where and held me back!

I kicked and screamed at her. I almost bit her. Where were they taking Mom? Why? I had to know what was going on!

"Let me go, lady!" I cried. "Let me go!" Then I felt a new set of hands around my waist holding me back. I turned around and saw my dad with a worried look on his face. That stopped me dead in my tracks. I hugged him and started to cry, not knowing what else to do.

Then he stood up and walked much slower than I towards a doctor. I stayed behind reluctantly with Helga, watching him from a distance speak with the doctor. I saw him gasp and hold both hands up to his face.

This was so not good. Not good at all.

Before Dad came back, I looked up with tears in my eyes at Helga. She was staring at Dad still, distressed and concerned obviously, but trying so hard to conceal it. I guess she didn't want to act like that in front of me about Dad. Or maybe she was worried about my Mom. Or both.

Why am I even thinking about this?

What was going on, dang it?

Dad walked back to us looking as scared as ever. I wanted to ask him what was wrong but I didn't. He'd tell me. He had to tell me. No matter how bad it was or how bad I would feel. He wouldn't do that.

The next few minutes are kind of blurry. He told us that we had to go back into the waiting room to wait for another doctor to explain what happened to Mom. We took a while to get there because we had gotten lost in the many hallways. Also, Helga had to tell her bodyguard or whatever what was happening and he stuck around.

When we got to the waiting room, my jaw dropped. Helga looked like she was about to scream.

Outside of the window were tons of paparazzi, standing in the early morning light. There were tons of security guards and police men standing at the ER entrance, trying to keep them out. Helga dove behind a tall tree-like plant and whispered a curse.

"What's that about?" I asked.

"They saw me on the local news and just like what happened on the radio, it got out like that," she said. "Also, um, there are rumors going around." She bit her lip and looked quite guilty.

Arnold lifted and eyebrow and said cautiously, "Helga… what rumors are going around?"

Helga smiled lamely. "Uh, remember last might when that photographer took that picture?"

Arnold's eyes widened and he hit his head. "Aw, crap!"

I could not believe it, either. "Do you mean to say that people actually think that you two are budding while my mom is-" I stopped suddenly. Oh, yeah. Mom.

Man, I hate remembering stuff!

Helga nodded. "Yeah. Criminy, the tabloids can't get enough of that stuff. Especially when it's a clear picture and in a place everyone knows I'm at."

So we had to slink around the walls quickly to get to a nook in the waiting room where we couldn't be seen from the windows. I completely forgot that Helga was famous for a while. I was too caught up in my emotions, I guess.

And I had every right to be, too, okay?

In about ten minutes -ten excruciating minutes- a doctor came to us and whisked us into a hallway. I was beyond ready to hear what was going on.

Once we were out of sight of the waiting room, Dad said, "Doctor, please, I was told a little about what is going on, but can you tell us exactly what is going on with Francesca? Has she improved? Is it worse? What are they doing to fix it?"

"Arnold!" Helga snapped. "Calm down. He's telling us."

She should just shut up, you know? My dad can ask as many questions as he wants! Where's her place to… okay, I need to shut up.

"Mrs. Tiller received an injury to her lungs that we didn't see on her first check, and haven't seen until now. The nurse in her room saw her breathing suddenly get raspier and raspier and her heart rate go up quickly. We rushed her into surgery and are trying to fix the injury, but it turns out that it is more fatal than we thought. We're afraid we may loose her soon."

Dad's jaw seemed to drop out of his socket and he gripped my shoulder tightly, so tightly it started to hurt. Helga gasped and I just stared. I lifted my hand and placed it in Dad's other hand and held it tightly. So… right after she was getting better she started to die again? I tried not to think about it. Because I could hear the desperation in my Dad's voice I knew it was I who had to be both realistic and strong at the same time again.

"Sir, please… what are the chances she'll make it through this?"

The doctor glanced at me and then to Helga, and gestured for Dad to follow him. It was because she was a super star and I was a pre-teen. We didn't have to hear it from him, but knowing that we shouldn't hear it from him made me know exactly what the odds are. I turned to my right and hit the wall with my fist. Helga put an hand on my shoulder and said, "Deana, I'm sorry. I know how much you love her."

I shook her hand off.

!#$%&(){}:"?

Arnold

"Because we didn't see the injury sooner, we couldn't heal it before it got worse. She's having trouble breathing, and it's getting worse every second no matter what we do to help her. Francesca's lung is failing and her other one wasn't doing so well in the first place. The chances of her surviving through the night are slim. But if she does, then she'll probably make a full recovery."

The shock of it all was unbelievable. Hadn't I just seen her in her room, smiling up at me, talking to me? Hadn't Helga seen her even more recently than I had? Wouldn't she have noticed any problems? She looked flustered, if anything.

I couldn't handle this. What if Francesca still thought badly of me and she… no, I can't say it. She wasn't going to die. She might, but I had to keep faith that she would pull through. She had to, for herself, but also for Deana and me.

"Mr. Tiller," said the doctor in a whisper, "I want you to make sure that none of this news meets the… the media outside of this hospital. We have policemen on their way here, but I'd very much appreciate it if you three would please stay in this area of the hospital for now."

I nodded. I had to stay focused, no matter how overcome with emotion I was just then. Deana shouldn't have to be the adult again. She was only eleven. I hoped that she wouldn't have to go through the tragedy of not having a mother… like I did. And in some weird sense, Helga, too, fell under that category.

"We will send someone with an update as soon as we can, sir," he said, and hurried back down the hallway, turning into a corridor.

I turned back to see Deana standing with her back to Helga, arms crossed, staring into the wall angrily. I wished she wouldn't behave like this to Helga. This wasn't anyone's doing, when would we all understand this? Helga was looking at me approach, a helpless look in her eyes. She didn't know what to do for me, Deana, or herself.

Neither did I.

I walked over to them, and Deana saw me out of the corner of her eye. She immediately changed expressions, grabbing my shirt and spitting out questions. "Is she okay? What are they doing? Will she live? How fast can they fix her? If they do, how long until she can come home? Is she going to die? What did he say?"

I put my hand on her head and considered for a split second not telling either of them. I thought about how mad Deana would be and thought against it. "He said the chances of Mom living through the surgery were slim. Her lung is failing with each breath she takes and the other lung wasn't doing so hot before this even happened. But if she does get through this, she'll be back to normal soon." I shot a glance at Helga, and I could see the stony look in her face. We shared a moment where we both clarified each other's thoughts. Yes, she knew as well as I did, maybe more, that Francesca would die soon. Yes, it would help Deana if she kept quiet.

Deana's face contorted into held back tears and she buried her face in my arm, like a shy toddler would do when meeting new people.

We walked down the hall, away from the media, hearing sirens in the background (hopefully from police rather than the ambulance… this hospital didn't need anymore trouble). We sat against the wall in a relatively clear part of the ER. A few nurses on their break where next to u, talking. Deana pulled herself into her chair, rested her head on my arm, and looked like she was asleep, but I could feel her body jolt trying to hold back waves of tears. I reached my other arm across the touch her, but Helga's hand stopped me. "She doesn't want anyone bothering her, Arnold," she whispered.

"Yeah?" I shot back quietly. "How do you know?"

"Trust me," she whispered again. "Leave her alone."

I thought about telling her off for telling me how to comfort my kid at this time, but remembered that Deana would hear it and decided not to bother her. Only when I heard her breathing even did I know she was asleep, and I leaned over to Helga. "What's up with you?" I asked directly. "You've been hiding something, and I know it. It's about the media outside of the hospital, isn't it?"

Helga glared at me and said, "How do I know?" Okay, so she was mad at my comment. At any other time I would've apologized, but I just wasn't in the mood. I doubled her look and waited for her to talk. "Fine. Arnold, the tabloids for the day are already on the stands. I saw them earlier and we're on the front cover. It's a story about a supposed affair between us, and I'm sure there's a load of BS in there about how we staged the accident for publicity since I was just so conveniently there, that we've been lovers for a while, and other things. I'm going to have to go to a magazine in about a week or less, you just watch and give an interview about this whole thing." She sneered and looked down the direction we'd come from, where I'm sure some paparazzi still waited anxiously. "These people are insane, inhumane, and just plain stupid. I mean, Criminy, would it kill them to let you guys have some relinquishment in you're freaking time of need?" She looked extremely annoyed, and she ran a hand through her hair thoughtfully. She turned back to me and said, "Arnold, I'm so sorry for everything that's happened to you and your family lately. Trust me, if I knew any of this would happen, that you finding out about… you know, then I would've waited. I would've made sure Francesca never got jealous or anything like that. Arnold… are you okay?"

I turned my head quickly so that Helga wouldn't see the tears rising in my eyes. This was exactly what I needed, the world thinking I was an evil husband. How could people write a story like that? Did they not know I'd already lost my parents, my grandparents, and now I was going to loose my wife, the mother of my child? The entire world wasn't like that, I know, and most people didn't even buy the tabloids, but I'm sure that such a clear shot of her holding my hand and looking at me like that was going to be too believable.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said looking at Deana. Even in her sleep she looked sad. What was she dreaming about? I didn't know.

It occurred to me that after this was all over, I'd have to tell her about Francesca. We had never told Dee about what had happened to her in high school, how we had met, her being passed amongst the boys so violently. No one deserved that, and now look at how Francesca was dying. Not old and quietly in her bed but young and a nurturing mother in a car accident.

No. She wasn't going to die. She was not going to die tonight. And I wasn't going to let myself think she was. I had to have faith. I had to.

!#$%&(){}:"?

Helga

I couldn't tell Arnold about what Francesca had told me. I couldn't think of telling him about the story, but the fact that she didn't love him as a wife should love a husband did was unthinkable. I would tell him later. Perhaps after my concert; perhaps before. Not before any clarification of Francesca's death came.

I wasn't going to fool myself into believing Francesca could live. The scenario was too weak for that to happen. I knew Arnold had to believe some miracle would happen, but I wasn't going to have false hope. She would probably die. If not tonight, sometime soon.

This meant I had to tell him. I don't think I could stand to see his heart break. I didn't want to his his huge heart fall into pieces. Deana didn't like me, mostly because of her anger and despair, but I hoped she wouldn't hate me forever. I had a foreboding that when this all came to pass Arnold and would end up good friends, and dare I think it, something more.

It was time like this I wished I'd found someone else when I was nine, and I'd wished that a lot in the past day.

Thinking about the night I'd lost and everything that'd happened in it, my exhaustion flared up in my eyes. By this time it was daylight outside, but I couldn't even keep track of the time. I didn't bother looking at the giant digital clocks anywhere. I actually didn't really want to know what time it was.

I had made a bond with Francesca, and I really didn't want to see her go. But I'm a realist. Or a pessimist depends on your perspective.

I didn't even realize I'd fallen asleep, but I had. And I didn't wake up until I felt someone shake me.

!#$%&(){}:"?

She dreamed.

It wasn't the same dreaming as when you're asleep. It wasn't even like the dream she'd had when she was unconscious. This was different.

This had already happened before. All of it. Just not in a dream.

She saw herself running around with her father, flying a kite. She saw herself walking down a church aisle, the wedding march playing. She saw herself being held down by boyfriend, screaming. She was being held by another person, _him_, not caring. She was holding her, smiling at the three-year-old's face. She was in elementary school, playing jump rope.

She was in a burning car. In a hospital bed, Helga next to her. In a hospital bed, running down the hallways, she stared at the passing rectangles of light.

Then, very suddenly, it all went dark. She wasn't thinking anymore. She wasn't seeing anymore, though the scene played out in front of her as if she were in the room. A person's body was opened up; people in blue were poking inside of it, trying to fix something that was broken. Soon, she realized it was her she was seeing. She didn't realize it, in those exact words. It was like she read it somewhere and she knew.

She knew something was behind her. She turned around, saw a blinding light, and saw no more.

!#$%&(){}:"?

Deana

"Deana. Deana, honey, please, wake up!"

I heard the sound of my father's voice through my sleep and immediately opened my eyes, wanting to go back to sleep, but not wanting to keep whatever it was Dad wanted so badly waiting.

"Huh?" she said, dazed, wondering why she wasn't in her bed. Hadn't they gone home, knowing Mom was safe and asleep, too, and they would see her tomorrow?

She saw the walls of the emergency room, instead, and her father's green eyes tearing up. The full shock of what had slipped her mind so unnoticed.

She didn't have to be told. She could see it on Helga's face, in her father's eyes, and almost like X-ray vision she could see it in the doctor's clipboard.

I looked around, waiting for them to stop acting. Waiting for them to stop and scream "Surprise!" and have Mom pop up behind them all. I waited for the nightmare to end and to hear my alarm clock and pull of the CD played attatched to my head playing my new CD…

No.

It didn't.

No.

No.

No…

I knew I started to voice the words, but I was in a fit and didn't care. I felt the arms wrap around me and another person sobbing with me, and it and made me cry out louder.

My only parent was crying with me. My other one was dead.

Well, she's dead. (All gasp. All throw Lil' Caesar's moldy pizza at me to not leave the gap so long this time. All ask why I said moldy pizza and not tomatoes. Originality, people.) Don't forget to review me with a response to the poll, to the chapter, and if you want some of the original Through the Compact Disc, do not hesitate to ask. Send me lots of feedback about you're anger and I may just be guilted yet again into typing another chapter up.

You Gotta Love Her (All: No we don't, we hate you for you're tardiness, we just like stories!)

BrianaLFBH


	10. Clean Up

Through the Compact Disc

Okay, I last updated this in, what, September? And I'm still getting those moldy pizza stains off of my pants… yuck, where do you people get this stuff? Yes, please forgive me. Please! Trust me, you won't have to wait any longer, this is the second to last chapter. Besides, the next chapter is already written. Anyways, I changed my pen name just a little. The "Love Football Head" thing was a little childish, so it's just going to be BLFBH. Yes I know it's always been 'LFBH' but… meh, you understand right? Here are your replies to reviews, guys.

Missing: Meh… that poll thing ended up being useless. When I finally got the will to write it, it wasn't anything like the poll. But thanks anyways, and thanks for reading.

Luzer: Um… yeah. I do know this person. Don't ask. She knew Fran was dead before I ever even wrote that chapter, so this person was yelling about it 4 chapters early. When I told her that she just said "Oh… oops?" But then she chased me around her house. She's such a cute little mad thing, isn't she? runs from now even more angry Luz

Demile: I'm so sorry I leave you hanging all the time! I'm such a procrastinator! But VdayII's next chapter is almost done, okay? It should be up after this one if my schedule goes right.

Queen Kay: looks at black suitcase and moves it behind a table with her foot What million dollars? Thanks, I love writing all the angst in the story. Angst is just so much fun.

Everyone: I just hope that you all are either still on this site or on my author alert list… I can't say how utterly bad I feel for leaving you like that! Anyways, even shitter chatter. Let's get it on!

Helga

If my present problems weren't enough for me to handle, I wouldn't have known. But then I had to get a call from my manager about one of them, which only intensified the situation. Someone down there must really hate me.

"Miss Pataki, you have to speak with the press," he told me. "If you don't, you'll end up in more tabloids by tomorrow. They're already going to put this on VH1."

"Right now, I have higher priorities than telling the rest of the world about myself," I said.

"Helga, you must. You could make a simple statement on paper if you wanted to, but we have to counter this blatant attack on your image."

"You know, this would actually fit my 'image'," I argued. "I mean, love struck teenager finally gets faceless crush when she's famous. But anyways, someone I know has just died. I have a lot of work to do today, not just for the concert, but for my friends too!" Exactly. The concert was tonight, and I had an entire song to organize. Also, I wasn't going to just let Arnold and Deana alone after all of this crud. On the other hand, I probably should. They might not want me there.

Okay, so I wouldn't go find Arnold. That left more time for me to do the song before eight o' clock came around.

"Look, I'll make a statement if it'll stop this," I finally said. Another way I could help Arnold, even just a little. He didn't need people going down his back about cheating on his late wife. My stomach turned just thinking about Francesca again.

"That's great! When will you do it?"

"I don't know. Whenever you see me. Get Entertainment Weekly or People or whoever to come over to the stage, but only one! I have to prep the band for another slot."

"Okay I'll get right… wait, another slot?" I almost smiled at his annoyance. "Since when did we have another slot? Where will it be? What song are you going to put in it?"

I had no time for this right now. "Good-bye," I said, slamming the end button on my phone so hard I was afraid I broke it.

I was still in the hospital. It was about an hour after dawn judging by the view outside a window. I was too tired to check a clock. An ambulance had already come to take Arnold and Deana home. I let them go first, and paid for the use of an emergency vehicle for private use, because they needed home more than I did. An ambulance would take me to my hotel as well, to avoid the crowd of photographers.

I felt like I was slowly going crazy with everything that was going wrong, and everything that had gone wrong that I had to fix. Too much was already beyond repair. If it hadn't been with my undying love, Francesca never would have been jealous and run away. If it hadn't been for those crazy men she knew, she wouldn't have married Arnold at all.

Didn't that almost make the crash a good thing? If she hadn't been in that unconscious state, she would have continued a lie. Trust me, I know just how bad lies are.

The price she paid for the horrible truth did not follow the rules of fair karma at all. And it simply wasn't right.

Her last request to me was to tell Arnold by singing this song she wrote. I didn't think I could do such a thing to him, but she told me to. She probably didn't know she'd be dead, and that fact would make the impact even worse on Arnold than if she was alive.

A nurse came up to me and told me that the ambulance was prepared to take me to my hotel, and from there I'd take a car to the Hillwood Amphitheater, where my concert would be. I'd have to write an entire song within that time.

Yay for me.

Arnold

Dad unlocked the door and I ran upstairs immediately. After all of this stuff about tabloids and hospitals and crap, I just wanted to be alone to cry.

Once I reached my room, though, I wasn't as sad as I was angry. I growled deep in my throat and threw myself onto my bed, screaming into my pillow. I just kept screaming and screaming, the sound ringing inside of my head so much that the thoughts and memories were drowning out.

Finally, I stopped. I was so exhausted, but I wanted to keep screaming. I couldn't, though. All the anger was out of me and now I just felt like dirt. I didn't even feel like crying.

Why did she have to die? Why did any of this have to happen? She was just fine! She was lying there and talking with all of her wounds healed… then she had to have that internal bleeding. You can't stop that, apparently.

Tonight was Helga's concert, of all things. I'm surprised she isn't postponing it, but then again it's a huge concert. And despite all of my other emotions about this, I'm still looking forward to it. I don't know if we'll even end up going. Dad and I are pretty messed up right now… the stupid photographers and writers are not helping at all.

But I'm going to have to get over myself sooner or later. I can't begin to let myself die, because then I won't be able to stop. I have to focus on something. That's the only thing that got me through her injury, and I was still worried because I wasn't focused enough. I thought she would live, and then it was sucked right out of my hands.

Dad must feel terrible about it, though. Especially since all the rumors are about him. He would never cheat on my mother. They both were in love… he still loves her, and I know that somewhere she still loves him, too.

There's really nothing to feel sad about. But I am, and there's no use in stopping it. I just have to control it and help my dad.

So after about ten minutes of being up there, I walked out of my room and went downstairs. I saw Dad sitting there, staring at the coffee table. I moved over to him and saw what he was looking at: the three tickets we won. One of them was supposed to be for Mom, but obviously not anymore.

"Dad?" I asked, my voice raspy from my screaming.

He looked up at me and smiled. "Hey, Deana," he said, and he patted his knee for me to sit on. I did so. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, sure," I said.

"Do you want to take someone to the show tonight?"

I cocked my head with curiosity. He wanted to go to the concert, after all of this? Well, I guess I should invite one of my friends… Tessa, perhaps. She's in love with Helga. "Yeah, sure. Tessa Brander?"

"Okay. Call her and ask if she wants to go."

I nodded and gave him a smile, just to make him happy. "Thank you, Dad," I said before moving to the phone in the kitchen.

Arnold

About five minutes before Deana came down, Helga had called to ask if we were still coming. I told her that we would. I said Francesca wouldn't want Deana to give up something she loved for this.

Then she told me something strange. She told me that she knew Francesca would want me there, and him specifically. She wouldn't tell me why, and it sounded like something she knew for certain. So now I'm lost, but I'll put it behind me.

I went up the stairs and entered my room… then I stopped short, my heart beginning to hurt. Emotionally. Even though Francesca had packed away most of her clothes and belongings, the room still smelled like her. I could sense her, how she spent every night in this room, and now she never would again.

I sat on the bed, feeling empty and forlorn. I've been feeling like that a lot lately, which is very uncharacteristic of me.

Then again, this has never happened to me before. And no matter how many "bright sides" there are –how could there be any?- I'm still going to feel this way.

I don't think I'll ever be the same.

Helga

"Listen, I know this is serious short notice," I said to the band that plays the music to my songs. "This is important, though. More important than pretty much this whole concert. No matter what anyone tells you, you're going to learn how to play this music by tonight. Is that clear?"

None of them answered. They all just looked closely at the scrawled sheet music I'd written for them.

I sighed. "Look, I'll pay you out of my own pocket if you'll just-"

"I'm in," said Brian, my bassist. The rest of them agreed, and I smiled. We immediately got to work practicing the song, going over the chords and beats that I'd made up in about two hours. Man, I love being creative.

Halfway through a rehearsal of a different song, someone over the speakers said, "Miss Pataki, an interviewer and cameraman are here to interview you for E! On MTV."

I sighed. This meant I had to stop rehearsal for an hour or so. Well, it was only eleven am. I had a few hours to kill, I suppose.

"Yeah, I'm on my way!" I yelled towards the sound control box. "I'll be back later, guys. Take a break."

In time I was in the hallways where the dressing rooms and supplies rooms were. I was standing in front of some E reporter and a man with a giant camera. I already knew what they were going to ask me and really didn't want to go through the process, but I had to follow protocol or they'd talk about it on the air. Beings a celebrity really bites.

"Can we make this quick?" I asked. "I have to do a lot of rehearsals for the concert tonight."

"Don't worry, this won't take long," he said. "Anyway, what do you have to say about the rumors that you and this Arnold Tiller, who you've had affection for for years, were taking part in an affair?"

"What happened is that my _friend_," I said, exaggerating my words, "was upset over his wife's previous car crash. I was consoling him and the paparazzi manipulated the event to cause controversy, which in reality is just sick. The man's wife was unconscious suffering many injuries," I was starting to get uncontrollable in my rambling. "In fact, she's passed away from those injuries. Arnold and I were most certainly not having an affair, since I've only seen him recently after over a decade of not speaking to him. The press went too far to exploit this family in such a tragic time, and it's only added stress to them. So now I just hope everyone knows that I'm most likely never going to be with Arnold and am definitely not with him now."

The interviewer stared for a moment after I finished, and it was then that I realized I'd just announced that Francesca was dead to the whole world. Great.

"I'm sorry for the loss," he said.

I had to smile, just a little. So some people in journalism were decent. "Thanks."

After that I went back on stage and finished rehearsing.

A/N: Well, not the longest chapter, but the next chapter is literally twice as long. A good chunk of it is the two song lyrics I've written for the story. So enjoy, review, and stay tuned. For once, I'm not lying when I say it will be soon!

No, seriously. It won't be long. Really.

You Gotta Love Me (or I may just pull an uber long hiatus again)

BLFBH


	11. The Music Plays

Through the Compact Disc

Harpiebird: Yeah, thanks for liking it. I didn't think I did such a hot job on it. I think you'll like this chapter, too, since I really enjoyed writing it.

King Cheetah: What an idea… lol, that's all anyone has to do, right?

Well, here it is: the FINAL chapter of Through the Compact Disc. Oh, I'm so excited, it's my first story ever written. I'm really happy that it's over. I'll miss it, but now I can focus on perfecting it: the first two or three chapters I just absolutely hate, they're not a good introduction to the story. Also, now that it's all down on paper, I consider this my first draft. Be looking out for the original version on Be prepared: I wrote a nice long one for ya'll.

Disclaimer: The characters under copyright by Craig Bartlett, Viacom, and Nickelodeon do not belong to me in part or in whole. Francesca and Deana Tiller, "Unrealized" and "Forget It", as well as this story's plot, are all my creation. Thank you and begin!

Helga

I took a deep breath and looked down at the ground. I had my guitar in my hands, and people were racing about all around me checking if anything wasn't set up the way it was supposed to be.

No one even cared that I was feeling broken inside of myself. Who was going to fix that? God? Me? Arnold? It wasn't anyone's responsibility but mine; that much I've learned over the years and the past few days.

Whether or not I'm able to do it was beyond me.

I heard someone walk up behind me. I turned around slowly, almost in a trance, and saw the faces of Arnold and his daughter. That must have been one of her friends with her. It was a young girl who looked torn between excitement and wondering if she should be sad for Deana.

"Hello, Helga," said Arnold, trying to look happy to be there. I knew better than that. He was wishing that he could have given his wife the ticket instead of Deana's friend. "Are you ready?"

Was I ready? I wasn't very sure. But then I remembered what I was supposed to do. I nodded and turned forward. A stage tech walked up to me and told me that as soon as the band started playing I was to walk out and start the first song. I knew the schedule, but I didn't feel like telling him off. Come on, Helga; get your game face on!

"Break a leg," said Deana, smiling weakly at me. I smiled back, and then the music started playing.

Deana

Annie squealed when Helga started singing, and I couldn't help but be excited as well. Whether it was the rush of the concert, Annie's own excitement, or maybe even the fact that I still adored Helga's music, was lost to me. But I listened and applauded with Annie while my dad just watched.

It had taken me a while to get over it. Well, I wasn't exactly over Mom's death, but what I had finished was my anger with Helga. Dad didn't even have to talk to me about it. I just had to think very, very hard about it. I was being childish, blaming her death on Helga. I just needed someone to blame, but now I knew I didn't have to anymore.

I'd never stop feeling sad about Mom. But at least I was slowly healing, I guess.

In the meantime, I had a concert to enjoy.

Arnold

I had to admit, Helga sounded pretty good live. It was almost better than on the CD. Especially the songs with pain in them.

I knew why Helga could but so much pain in them, especially now.

I'm not entirely sure what went on with Helga and Frannie while she was in the hospital bed, but it seemed like something healthy occurred. All I could hope for was that Frannie passed on without any anger with me. I guess I won't know that until I pass on, as well.

I wasn't in a hurry for that. Deana needed me, and I hoped even more that I wouldn't have to leave her as well.

The end of the first hour came, and an intermission followed. Helga came up to us, sweating and out of breath, but in a much better mood than she had been. "Hey, guys," she breathed. She grabbed two bottled waters from a crate nearby and dumped one on her face, and took gulps of it down from the other. "How do you like it so far?"

"It's awesome!" cried the two girls.

"Oh my gosh, Helga Pataki, I absolutely love you!" cried Annie. "Can you sign my arm with this, please?" She held a permanent marker up to Helga's face and pulled back the sleeve of her jacket. Helga glanced up at me with a stumped expression, but then shrugged and quickly signed in her scrawled yet artistic handwriting. Annie squealed and looked at Deana happily. "You are so lucky! Uh, I mean…" Annie stumbled around, her sounds not forming words.

"Don't worry, Annie," said Deana excitedly. "I am pretty lucky." I took one look at her smile and knew it was only half genuine. But she was having fun. That was good.

I looked at Helga, who had already been looking at me. "So are you feeling good?"

"Pretty good, yeah," she said. "Football head," she added at the end. I smiled at the old joke. I guess maybe I should be having fun, too, but it still felt strange to smile. I had cried for a long time the night before. I needed to make up for that with some fun.

"Arnold…" Helga started to say, but then she hesitated. I an inquisitive look from me, she continued. "The next halves… Listen carefully, okay? I have some new songs."

I lifted an eyebrow at her, but at that point she was being taken by techs back to the side of the stage, briefing her on what to do the next half of the show.

Helga

In what seemed like no time I was rushed back to the center of the stage while the lights were out, trying to be very careful not to trip over anything. Well, this was it. The moment of truth had arrived. Any second now I'd be saying and singing what I'd been practicing nonstop for the past day.

I just hoped it was all really worth doing.

The lights came back on and the entire stadium full of people cheered loudly. I could barely see them with all of the lights pointed at me, but I knew who was out there. And I knew that now was my time.

"You ready for another song yet? Maybe we should keep you all waiting, you're not screaming loud enough!" Actually, they had been screaming pretty loud, about as loud as I'd ever heard crowds cheer. It picked up volume after I said that, though, and I was almost about to yell at them all to shut up before I went tone deaf. Jeez, fans would kill me one day.

"Anyway," I said, after the noise had quieted, "I have something to say."

I looked to my left and saw the Arnold's confusion written all over his face. He had the half-closed eyelid thing going on, and I had to fight hard to control it. Deana, however, looked anxious to hear me, as if she knew exactly what I was going to say. That Annie girl looked hypnotized, completely unaware of her friend. Sigh.

"I'm sure you all have seen it all over the TV, heard it on the radio, or read in a newspaper about what happened very recently to a friend of mine," I said. "I'm sure a lot of you probably didn't believe it when I said that another friend, who happens to be the widow of the late Francesca Tiller, were not having an affair." I gazed coldly across the crowd. "You all had better believe me when I say that Anonymous is not, and most likely never will be, anything more than a friend from now on. Not many people say this kind of thing in a concert, I know," I continued, "but I feel it fit to say right before this next song. It was put together recently, and this is the first time ever it's been performed for an audience. I didn't write the words, though. A friend of mine did, and it was her wish for me to sing them." I gripped the microphone tightly. "I hope you all enjoy it."

The stadium was dead silent as I counted of the band and the music started playing. Inside my head, I said, 'He'll know, Fran, he'll know."

And I began to sing.

"_I'm inside these flames, circling around me, I can't move from my spot on the ground_

_In front of me I see you, just standing there like there's something to be found_

_It speaks to me_

_I hear it; it's to hard to believe your words_

_Protect me, I'm pulling back, I can't believe I agree with what I've heard_

_This is the first time I ever knew_

_I'm such a good actress even I was fooled_

_How can it be a lie if you thought it was right?_

_How can it be so wrong to know what you cannot fight?_

_Only one way to escape_

_Gotta walk through those flames_

_So sorry we ended up being an unrealized lie_

_Can't stand the thought of seeing your face after it's out in the open_

_I swore I loved you more than life, more than any of them_

_Is it too late?_

_Can I convince my innocence upon you now that you know?_

_See your face, wish I'd another fate, no denying the now open door_

_This is the first time I ever knew_

_So much lost to the wind now that I have to leave you_

_How can it be a lie if you thought it was right?_

_How can I feel so wrong when really I never tried to fight_

_I wish that there was some other way_

_Gotta walk through those flames_

_So sorry I ended up being an unrealized lie!_

_Nothing else left to say, No one else left to blame_

_I've got to confess while it's not yet Judgment Day_

_Only one way to escape, Only one thing left to say_

_So ashamed, forgive me when I say: I never loved you!_

_This is the first time I ever knew_

_I needed someone to keep me away, how could I be such a fool?_

_How could it be a lie when everything was right?_

_How can this be so wrong, I blinded everyone from the sight!_

_Wish I'd found some other way_

_I don't want to walk through those flames!_

_So sorry I ended up telling an unrealized lie!_

_Nothing else left to say! No one else left to blame!"_

I leaned over, catching my breath from jumping around and singing so loud. I could hear the audience screaming in pure amazement at the song. I had to admit, it was one of the best performances I've ever had.

I turned my face towards where Arnold was. He wasn't there anymore. Deana shook her head disbelieving at me and ran off with Annie to, I'm sure, wherever her father was.

It had to be done, Helga old girl. It had to be done.

Arnold

"Stay here," I told Deana. I walked away briskly as Deana looked after me.

"Dad where are you-"

"Stay here!" I repeated in the most fatherly voice I could muster. Deana stepped back and looked at me in a strange way. I'd deal with it later. I ran to the backstage bathrooms and shut myself in a stall. I felt like a kid, running to the restrooms in school when he was upset.

I felt like a little kid. At least one who's innocence had finally been broken.

I couldn't breathe. I couldn't even think straight. I sat on the toilet seat and ran my fingers through my hair.

Francesca wrote that song. She wrote it about me. She said she never loved me… what was worse was that she had obviously written it while at the hospital.

She knew she was going to die when she wrote it. She told Helga to sing it. It was the only way it'd get to me, and Francesca had always wanted to write something anyway that'd be famous even after her death. I remembered her saying that. I remember her saying that not long after we got married, and not long before she became pregnant with my child.

And that whole time she didn't love me like we thought she did.

I didn't need the subtlety explained. As I said before, I'm not so childishly dense anymore. She only married me because she knew I wouldn't treat her like a dog. She married me because I was so nice to her.

We both, obviously, knew that wasn't enough to marry someone.

Why the hell did she have to tell me this way, though? I kicked the wall of the stall in distress. Couldn't she have told Helga to just give me whatever it was she'd written it on? Couldn't Helga just tell me herself? Why at a concert, where I was trying to have even a little fun? It was stupid. So stupid…

But this was how Helga feels, wasn't it? No, it wasn't. Maybe we were both in love with someone who didn't love them back, but she never had me give back the emotion for about fifteen years and then give the truth.

According to the song, she never even knew. How could she not know something that colossal? Duh, Arnold. You're a psychiatrist. After everything Francesca had been through, I'm sure she was willing to do anything to have her fairy tale.

It was just at her family's expense.

"Dad!"

I lifted my head up quickly. "Deana?"

Deana

I had had to convince Annie to follow me into the men's restroom. It was incredibly gross inside, the sickly yellow walls probably once being white.

I knew the song had upset Dad. After asking Annie about it, I had a pretty good idea as to why.

It just couldn't possibly be true, though.

Dad opened the stall door he was in and walked out. Annie backed away into the background while he kneeled down and grabbed me tightly.

"Dad…" I asked weakly. "Was that about…"

He didn't answer, and in his silence, it was obvious. I hugged him, something the two of us had been doing a lot, and the pain in my wound was intensified as my mom's words poured salt in it.

He stood up slowly and gripped my shoulder tightly. "Don't worry," he whispered. "She loved you more than anything in the world. Don't let anything else keep you from knowing that, Dee. She loves you."

I nodded, choking back the lump that seemed to always form when I was trying not to cry.

"Go back to where we were. Enjoy the concert while you can."

I looked up at him in astonishment. "Dad, you can't expect me to-"

"Go. We'll talk about this later."

Helga

It took a long time for me to see Arnold and Deana back at their spots on stage left. I kept looking over there, skipping the other song he had to hear and singing the following two instead. This one, however, was different. This one was mine.

When I saw them back in their places, I pretended I hadn't seen them get there and that I hadn't even realized they'd left. I lifted a hand to the band behind me, the signal for when we'd finally do the dong I'd been working on, writing since before the car accident.

"Here's another new one for you guys," I said into the microphone. "Both this song and "Unrealized Lie" are going to be on the album I've started working on. Progress is going fast so expect it to be out in the not too distant future."

I took a deep, encouraging breath as the music began to play. It wasn't as heavy as "Unrealized Lie" had been, but it had a much edgier tone than most of my other songs. I liked that about them, as art at least. Then, I began to sing my own conclusion.

"_So much time has gone by since I first started_

_Through the pain and the rain and the horrible stains_

_Disappointment is the next thing to disregarded_

_Jealousy, look at me, you used to always leave me_

_Oh, now that's over, don't look me that way in the eye anymore_

_Oh, don't feel sorry, I can move on now that it's out of my system_

_Everything I've ever said to you about me_

_Just forget it, that's all I want from you_

_Anything I've ever tried to convince you about me_

_Just forget it; you know that you want to_

_Love is such a short story, never with happy endings_

_Always scars secrets in jars and losing who we are_

_I know you want nothing to do with me, I'll stop defending_

_Just drop it, just forget it _

_I won't leave you thinking so much about it_

_Everything I've ever said to you about me_

_Just forget it, that's all you have to do_

_Anything I've ever tried to convince you about me_

_Just forget it, you know what you want to do_

_I've wasted enough time looking for what I could never find_

_Time for a new life, you don't have to worry, I'll be just fine…"_

Soon the song was over, and the crowd cheered again. Not as loud as they had done before, or as enthusiastically, but it was obviously they loved it. But how many of them caught on to what I'd said?

Arnold

After that song, Helga ran off stage right, causing the entire crowd to cheer "Encore! Encore!"

"She's supposed to do that," said Deana. "It riles the crowd up. She'll come back on."

"Yeah, she'd better," agreed Annie. "She hasn't even sung "Family Portrait" yet. (A/N: That song was actually NEW when I started… Jesus…)

"Don't get worked up about it, I will."

I turned around and saw Helga standing behind us, smiling nervously. She looked at me and said what she wanted to say without words, but I suppose she wanted to speak anyway. "Arnold… I'm sorry," she said.

I smiled sadly. "Don't worry about it," I said. "It's not the best way to find out, but I guess it's better than not knowing the truth."

"Well, yeah, I'm sorry for that," Helga said, "but what I meant to say was that I'm sorry there was anything for you to find out."

"Yeah…" I mumbled, sticking my hands in my pockets. "Me, too."

"She was very sorry, Arnold," she said. "She didn't want it like that, either. But don't blame her, Arnold. She didn't even realize. Don't think on it for so long."

At that moment, I was grateful to have Helga there. Her way with words was actually better than when we were kids… or maybe she'd just learned how to say them as well as write them. "Helga, I'm glad we're friends." I looked up at her with meaning. "And I'm sorry that that's all we are."

Helga laughed. "No, you're not," she said. "That's crazy. But I get what you mean. And don't worry about it… I'm fine."

So both of them understood they'd never be together. Everything was just fine. Or at least, it would be.

"I think you'd better go back on before someone gets hurt, Helga," said Deana, breaking the silence. Helga gasped and realized that there were people around them yelling at her to go back on. She ran back on stage to continue the concert, with one final look at me.

Deana turned around, her hair covering the side of her face, and looked at me with hollow eyes. I hated that look. I just wanted to make it go away. She'd had it so much lately.

"It's never going to be the same, is it?" she asked me.

"No," I said. "It isn't… but that doesn't mean it's not going to be okay."

And then the music played.

No one ever tries to hurt someone they love at the beginning. It usually starts with a mistake, a foul, or a misunderstanding. Things usually plummet downhill from there. But throughout all of the pain, unfinished stories come to a close. Untold truths are revealed. People are molded into something stronger. Cherished things are lost, scars are formed, and so many other terrible things may happen along the way, all started by such a petty little thing.

Then again, so much can be learned, even through something so mundane as a compact disc.

And that's it. That's all, that's the last thing. It took me exactly three hours and two minutes to complete, from about eleven to two in the morning. On a school night. Aren't you so happy? Yes, it's gone through time lapses I never hope to go through with anything ever again, it's gone through lost floppy discs and broken computers, but it's finally out of there. For those of you disappointed that Helga and Arnold never actually get together, sorry, but that's how it's got to be. Dude his wife just DIED! There's no kiss scene, nuh uh! Also, I totally made up the rest of "Unrealized Lie" (Which I think was named something else in the past) and all of "Forget It" On the spot. So this is the best I can do, I hope it's fitting.

And now I'm tired. So, review me with any questions, comments, critiques, or if you're wondering about the original version. I'll rewrite the first two chapters, to make them less rip-off-y and more attractive to pull you in to the story better.

You Gotta Love Me (because I finished a story finally!)

BLFBH


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